Chapter 177

Chapter 177
Layla's POV

"You're not my Alpha," I countered, even as my body responded to his proximity. "I'm the one who can pull the magic sword, remember? Maybe you should be calling me 'Your Majesty.'"

He pulled back, looking down at me with mock seriousness. "Is that what you want? Should I bow before you, my Wolf Queen?"

"Shut up," I groaned, heat flooding my face. "Don't call me that."

"Why not? It's true." He released my hands to cup my face. "Soulrend chose you. By rights, that makes you royalty among wolves."

"Stop it." I pushed at his chest. "I'm not a queen. I'm just Layla. Troublemaker."

"You forgot 'badass,'" he added, rolling to his side and pulling me against him. "And 'incredibly sexy.'"

"And 'exhausted,'" I mumbled, burying my face in his chest. "Can we sleep now?"

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Yes, my queen."

"I will literally stab you with that sword."

His laughter followed me into sleep.

The next morning, Kael woke me before dawn. "Time to train," he announced, already dressed in workout clothes.

I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head. "Five more minutes."

"The bad guys aren't going to give you five more minutes." He yanked the blanket away. "Up."

After a quick breakfast, we headed back to the basement. Soulrend still glowed faintly on its pedestal.

"Okay," Kael said, standing beside me. "First rule of sword fighting: don't get stabbed."

I rolled my eyes. "Very helpful."

"I'm serious." His expression matched his words. "You're pregnant, Layla. This isn't about turning you into a warrior. It's about teaching you enough to defend yourself if necessary."

"Fine." I reached for the sword, feeling again that strange connection as my fingers touched the hilt. "How do I hold it?"

For the next several hours, Kael patiently showed me the basics—how to grip the sword properly, how to stand, how to move. It was harder than it looked. By mid-morning, my arms ached, and sweat dampened my shirt.

"Can we take a break?" I panted after Kael corrected my stance for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Five minutes," he agreed. "You're doing well."

"I'm terrible and we both know it." I carefully set Soulrend down.

"You're a beginner," he corrected. "No one's good on their first day."

"Were you?"

A smile touched his lips. "I was awful. My father had to bribe me with ice cream to get me to practice."

The image of little Kael struggling with a sword made me laugh. "I could use some ice cream right now."

"Finish this set, and I'll see what I can do." He picked up Soulrend, handing it back to me. "Now, remember what I showed you. Block high, then thrust."

By the end of the day, every muscle in my body screamed for mercy. I collapsed onto the couch while Kael made dinner.

"I can't move," I groaned. "You've killed me."

"Drama queen," he called from the kitchen. "You'll feel better after you eat."

"Unless you're making miracle food that repairs destroyed muscles, I doubt it."

He appeared with two plates of grilled chicken and vegetables. "Protein for muscle recovery. And yes, before you ask, I have ice cream for dessert."

"You're forgiven for the torture." I sat up with effort, taking the plate. "This looks amazing."

"I'm a man of many talents." He sat beside me. "You did good today, Layla. Seriously."

"Thanks." I took a bite of chicken, savoring the perfectly seasoned meat. "Where did all this food come from anyway? I thought we just grabbed emergency supplies."

"My ancestors built this place to be completely self-sufficient," Kael explained. "The pantry is magically preserved—spells that keep food fresh for years. My grandfather was particularly fond of ice cream, so he made sure that spell was extra strong."

"Magical ice cream. Now I've heard everything," I said with a smile. "Tomorrow will be better, right?"

"Tomorrow will be harder," he corrected. "But you'll be stronger."

And he was right. Each day, we trained from dawn until dusk. Kael was a demanding teacher but an encouraging one. He pushed me to my limits but never beyond them. By the third day, I could perform basic maneuvers without thinking, my body starting to remember the movements.

When I wasn't training with Soulrend, Kael worked on crafting armor for us both. I watched in fascination as he hammered and shaped metal in the cabin's small workshop.

"I didn't know you could make armor," I said, sitting on a stool and eating a chicken leg as he worked. He was shirtless, sweat glistening on his muscled back as he hammered. "And I definitely didn't expect a fully equipped forge in a secret cabin."

"It's not just any cabin," he said, dipping a piece of metal into water, creating a cloud of steam. "It's a war refuge. Alpha wolves have always prepared for the worst. The workshop was designed to equip a pack if they had to hide here during conflict."

"Smart man." I tilted my head, admiring the view. "Don't stop on my account."

He glanced over his shoulder, catching me staring. "Enjoying the show?"

"Very much." I took another bite of chicken. "Though I should probably be helping instead of just watching."

"You are helping." He returned to his work. "You're growing our baby and learning to use a mythical sword. I think you can take a break to eat."

"And ogle my hot husband."

He laughed. "That too."

"Seriously, though." I set my plate aside. "You're amazing, Kael. Making armor, teaching me to fight, cooking meals... is there anything you can't do?"

He set down his hammer and turned to me, his expression unexpectedly serious. "I couldn't draw the sword."

"Kael—"

"No, let me finish." He walked over, kneeling in front of me. "I've spent my life trying to be perfect. The perfect son, the perfect Alpha, the perfect mate. And I've failed at all of them."

"That's not true."

"It is." He took my hands in his. "But watching you these past few days—your determination, your strength despite everything you've been through—I realize something. Maybe perfection isn't what matters."

"What does matter?" I asked softly.

"Heart." He placed his hand over my chest. "Courage. The willingness to keep fighting even when everything seems impossible." He moved his hand to my stomach. "Love."

Tears pricked my eyes. "Now you're just trying to make me cry."

"Never." He leaned up to kiss me. "At first, I thought it was because of our baby—the bloodline, the prophecy, all of that. But watching you train these past days, seeing your determination... I realized I was wrong. The sword didn't just choose our child's mother or a specific bloodline. It chose you, Layla. Your spirit. Your heart."

"You really think so?" I whispered, surprised by his change of perspective.

"I do." His eyes were earnest. "Yesterday, when you kept getting up after falling again and again, cursing but never quitting... that's when it hit me. Soulrend isn't just about power or lineage. It's about the will to fight for what matters, no matter the odds."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I kissed him instead, pouring all my feelings into it.

"If you keep kissing me like that," he murmured against my lips, "this armor's never going to get finished."

"We have time," I whispered back.

His green eyes darkened. "Not enough."

He was right, of course. The blood moon ceremony was only days away. So I let him go back to his work while I returned to my training, both of us preparing for a battle we might not survive.

But for the first time since this all began, I felt something new alongside the fear: hope. Not just because of Soulrend or Kael's training, but because I finally understood what we were fighting for.

Not just survival. Not just our baby. But a future where we could be together, without fear or schemes or ancient prophecies hanging over our heads.

A future worth fighting for, sword in hand.