Chapter 227 QUESTIONS OF THE PAST
Conor
"Conor," she groaned, wiping her forehead. "When do we actually get to the fighting part? I mean, this training every day is starting to wear me out."
I glanced over at her, noticing how her chest heaved with each breath, the light catching the sweat on her face. For a split second, she reminded me of someone else—someone from the past.
"You can’t fight effectively until your body’s built the strength and speed needed to deliver powerful blows and dodge attacks. You need endurance, agility… fluidity. You’ve improved a lot, but I want you to move like water." I gave her a pointed look, trying to keep my amusement in check. She always got so annoyed when I critiqued her form.
She rolled her eyes, wiping away more sweat as her hair curled damply around her neck. There was a hint of defiance in her gaze. "Yeah, I get it. I should be able to fight just as well in my human form as I can in my wolf form."
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. "And why’s that?"
She let out an exasperated sigh, her irritation clear as she leaned back in the chair. "Because, in a fight, it’s easier to take down other wolves in human form. They can’t exactly hold weapons, can they? Yeah, yeah, I get it, Conor."
The edge in her voice didn’t sit right with me today. I let out a low growl from my chest, more instinct than anything. My wolf wasn’t fond of her bad mood. Neither was I.
She looked up at me, her head tilting slightly, and murmured, "Oops." Her voice was soft, almost uncertain. "I get that you're trying to help, but... I don't know. I feel kind of down today." Her lips pursed tightly, her mood seeming as heavy as the air between us.
I stood up, crossing my arms as I looked down at her. There was something different about her today—like a stray puppy that had lost its way. She wasn’t the fighter I knew she could be, not today at least. I sighed, my voice softening. "Hey, what’s up, Edeline?"
She glanced up at me briefly, but her gaze was casual, distant. Her focus shifted to her lap as she absently fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "Today marks sixteen years since Darius and I became friends," she said quietly, her fingers twisting the fabric. "We’ve been buddies since we were just one year old. It might sound cheesy, but... we've always celebrated this day."
There was a sadness in her voice, something that made me pause. Suddenly, it clicked for me. She hadn’t fully come to terms with who Darius had become. Despite everything, she still had unanswered questions, lingering thoughts about him. I could sense it, even if she didn’t say it outright. This was my chance to get her to open up without pushing too hard.
I crouched down to meet her eyes. "You’re still thinking about his mental state, aren’t you?"
She gave a small shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but I could see the weight in her expression. "Yeah, I mean... I think back, and I can't pinpoint when he started to change. He was always consistent with me." Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, like she was pulling at old wounds.
I let out a deep sigh, the memories of Mad Maximus flooding back to me—my own broken wolf. "He wouldn’t have shown you that side of himself. The wolf... it was sick. The human side would’ve hidden it from you. Even in wolf form, he wouldn’t have acted on those crazed impulses. His wolf saw you as worthy, Edeline. Someone important. Over time, that feeling would’ve seeped into his human side, too, making him think he loved you more. What he did to those girls... it could’ve been his wolf’s aggression, not being able to have you. And what he did to his mate... maybe that was fear. Fear of losing you."
I paused, watching her closely, hoping my words offered some comfort. "I don’t fully understand the disease, but I can see how his wolf’s thoughts bled into his actions."
She shook her head, her expression clouded with sadness. Her lips pressed together as if she was trying to hold back words she wasn’t sure she could say. "I just wish... I wish I’d had the chance to ask him. To talk to him. I wish everyone had been more open with me about what was going on." Her voice trembled as she bit her lip nervously, her eyes brimming with unsaid things.
As her Alpha and her trainer, I had a duty to keep her occupied, to distract her from these overwhelming thoughts. But there were moments—moments like now—where I needed to let her feel, to let her release the weight she carried. Bottling everything up wasn’t healthy, and I knew that. She needed these moments to heal, to sort through the mess inside her mind.
I leaned forward slightly, my tone gentler. "So... what’s your take on Percival? Any thoughts on that today?" I wasn’t expecting much, but I was curious. I wanted to know how she was processing it all.
She squinted slightly, her gaze still fixed on the ground. "It’s complicated," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m not sure how I feel about it. He did some hurtful things... but he also did some good. He killed Darius to protect me. But who knows... if Darius had lived, maybe he could’ve gotten better?" Her brows furrowed as she spoke, her inner conflict showing in every word. "But then again... he did all those terrible things. To his mate. To other women. I could never look at him the same way. He probably deserved to die."
Her hands twisted in her lap, her uncertainty hanging in the air between us. "I guess Percival did me a favor, in a way. But at the same time, Percival did a lot of other things, too... things I can’t just forgive. He blamed his wolf for everything. Like his wolf was the reason he couldn’t stay away from Tatiana."