Chapter 52 Chapter 52
Amber
I had never been so impatient to train before, never so determined to make not just the four heirs but even Damian see that I wasn’t a weakling.
I wanted to emerge a winner in the hunt, a girl who managed to evade all four heirs hunting her.
Before dawn I was spritning down the stairs, all ready to tell Damian about how I avoided getting turned into a prey for the time being. I was confident he will have a strategy.
I'd managed exactly two hours and forty-seven minutes of sleep before my alarm went off, but adrenaline and determination kept my eyes open as I started my warmup.
The training grounds were still shrouded in pre-dawn darkness when I arrived, my breath forming small clouds in the cool morning air.
Completing five laps around the perimeter before Damian even showed up was my goal.
The first two laps were still bearable as I gritted my teeth and pushed through.
By the third lap, I'd found a rhythm. The pain was still there, but it had become background noise.
The fourth lap felt almost easy in comparison.
And the fifth lap, I finished with a sprint, just to prove to myself that I could.
I bent over, hands on my knees, gasping for air as the sky began to lighten from black to deep purple. Sweat dripped down my face despite the morning chill, and every muscle in my body screamed for rest.
But I felt good and strong and then like a masochist did two more.
I straightened up and checked the time. It was three past five which meant Damian was late.
Or maybe he wasn't coming at all.
Maybe this had been some kind of test, and I'd already failed by actually showing up.
I was about to start another lap just to keep myself from spiraling into doubt when I heard footsteps approaching.
Damian emerged from the shadows between the dorm buildings, and even in the dim light, I could see he looked exactly as exhausted as he had last night.
His dark hair was damp from a recent shower, curling slightly at the ends, and he wore his usual all-black training gear. But the shadows under his eyes were more pronounced, and there was a tension in his shoulders that suggested he hadn't slept at all.
He stopped a few feet away, his silver eyes taking in my disheveled appearance and the sweat-soaked state of my clothes.
"You're early," he said.
"You're late," I countered.
His mouth twitched, but he didn't smile. Instead, he walked past me toward the training equipment, clearly intending to start his own warmup.
I hurried after him. "I already did seven laps while I was waiting."
That made him pause. He turned to look at me, his expression unreadable.
"Seven?" he repeated.
"Well, yeah you make me do that either way so I figured I’d get that out of the way."
I was talking too fast, nerves making me ramble.
"I've also decided to incorporate more running between classes, and I'm going to take the stairs whenever possible instead of the shortcuts, and I thought maybe we could work on something more challenging today? Like actual combat techniques or defense moves or something?"
Damian didn't respond. He just set down the bag he'd been carrying and started stretching.
I stood in front of him, refusing to be ignored. "Can we do something more interesting than just running?"
"Like what?" His voice was flat, disinterested.
"I don't know, hand to hand combat maybe? Or my aim is actually pretty decent, so maybe throwing knives? I've practiced before, back at my pack, and I think with proper instruction I could get really good at it."
He finished his stretch and straightened, looking at me with that same infuriating expression that gave nothing away.
"Just keep running," he said.
The dismissal stung more than I wanted to admit.
"But you said you'd train me," I protested. "Running isn't training, it's just cardio."
"Running is what's going to keep you alive during the Annual Hunt Challenge," he said. "The heirs aren't interested in a fair fight. They want the hunt. If you can run fast enough and hide well enough, you'll survive."
"And if I can't?" The question came out sharper than intended. "What you said to me on the day of Introduction was true, Damian. The alpha heirs are going to hunt me because I don't belong to any faction, and they offered me to choose one of them but I declined, saying I would do that after the Annual Hunt. So if they catch me, running won't help me. I will be bound to one of them."
"If they catch you, fighting won't help either."
"Maybe not," I conceded. "But I'd rather go down swinging than just roll over and accept whatever they decide to do to me."
Something flickered in his eyes, too quick to identify.
"I need to learn proper attack and defense," I continued. "Please. I'm not asking you to turn me into some elite warrior in two weeks. I just need enough skills to defend myself if it comes down to it."
He was quiet for a long moment, studying me with that intense gaze that always made me feel like he could see straight through me.
Then he sighed, a sound of resignation. "Show me your aim."
Relief flooded through me. "Really?"
"If it's as decent as you claim, then maybe we can work with it." He crossed his arms. "But if you're wasting my time, we go back to running. Understood?"
"Understood."
I practically ran to where I'd stashed my bag, pulling out the small set of throwing knives I'd borrowed from the academy's equipment room. They weren't fancy, just standard training blades, but they'd felt good in my hand when I'd tested them earlier.
When I returned, Damian was leaning against a post, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.
"Pick a target," I said, trying to project confidence I didn't entirely feel.
He didn't even look up, just raised one hand and pointed vaguely toward a tree about twenty feet away. "That one."
My confidence faltered slightly. He hadn't even bothered to look at what he was pointing at, hadn't shown any interest in assessing the distance or the difficulty.
But fine. If he wanted to be dismissive, I'd prove him wrong.
I gripped the first knife, testing its weight, then focused on the tree trunk. I'd done this before, had practiced in secret back at my pack using whatever I could find.
It shouldn’t be that hard.
Taking a deep breath, I drew back and threw.
The knife sailed wide, missing the tree entirely and embedding itself in the dirt several feet to the left.
‘Okay, that was fine. First throw jitters.’ I mumbled to myself.
I tried again with the second knife.
This one went high, arcing over the tree and disappearing into the underbrush beyond.
My face heated with embarrassment.
By the time I'd thrown the last knife and watched it veer wildly off course, I wanted to sink into the earth and disappear.