Chapter 88 Jealousy Rumbling Underneath
The weapons hall smelled like oil, steel, and old sweat, comforting in a way I hadn’t expected.
The light catches on polished blades lining the walls. Racks of knives, short swords, and practice weapons were arranged with military precision. It was quieter than the combat ring, more focused. Less shouting. More intent.
Thane leaned casually against a weapons rack, flipping a knife end over end with lazy precision.
“Relax,” he said, flashing her a grin that had no business being that easy. “The knife isn’t judging you. Probably.”
I snorted despite myself. “It absolutely is.”
I stood across from him at one of the practice stations, a throwing lane marked by worn lines on the floor. A wooden target stood at the far end, scarred from years of use. I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension that had been living in my bones since the lab visit.
Thane tossed me a balanced throwing knife. I caught it smoothly.
“See?” he said. “Natural.”
I eyed him. “You say that to all your students?”
“Only the terrifying hybrid ones who could kill me if I annoy them too much.”
I laughed, and the knife slipped.
It clattered uselessly against the floor.
Thane winced theatrically. “Ah. Death by embarrassment. Tragic.”
I groaned, bending to pick it up. “You’re distracting.”
“That’s my greatest skill.”
I took my stance again, mimicking what he’d shown me earlier. Feet apart. Weight balanced. Knife held loose, not tight. I exhaled and threw.
The blade hit the target, off-center, but stuck.
“Hey,” Thane said approvingly. “That’s progress.”
I smiled, warmth blooming in my chest. It felt good, this. Light. Almost normal.
“Again,” he said, tossing me another knife.
I caught it, met his eyes, and he exaggeratedly wiggled his eyebrows.
I burst out laughing.
The knife slipped from my fingers mid-throw, skidding harmlessly across the floor.
“Oh come on,” I said between laughs. “You did that on purpose.”
“I absolutely did,” Thane replied proudly. “If you can’t throw a knife while laughing, what kind of warrior are you?”
“An alive one?”
Before he could respond, the temperature in the room seemed to drop.
I felt himbefore I saw him.
A presence. Heavy. Controlled. Sharp around the edges.
Darius stood at the entrance to the hall.
I hadn’t heard him approach. No footsteps. No warning. Just,there.
His jaw was clenched so tightly I could see the muscle ticking. His eyes flicked from Thane, who was still grinning, to the knives on the floor, then finally to me.
“Thane,” Darius said coolly, voice cutting through the space like a blade. “Switch with me.”
The room went very quiet.
Thane raised an eyebrow. Slowly. Deliberately.
“Well,” he drawled, pushing off the rack, “this just got interesting.”
I sighed loudly, already rubbing my temples. “Thane is my teacher,” I said, turning toward Darius. “You picked him. Remember?”
“I know,” Darius replied sharply.
He walked toward me, each step measured, controlled. There was something tightly wound about him today, like he’d been holding himself together with sheer will since morning.
He stopped directly behind me.
Too close.
Before I could comment, his hands came to rest on my hips.
Not rough. Not gentle.
Corrective.
My breath caught despite myself.
“Your stance is wrong,” Darius said.
Thane coughed loudly, clearly trying, and failing, to hide a laugh.
My cheeks burned.
“I was doing fine,” Iprotested weakly.
“You’re leaning,” Darius replied, adjusting my hips with precise pressure. “You’re compensating instead of grounding.”
His voice was low.
I could feel the heat of him through my clothes. The solid line of his chest just behind my back. The faint scent of pine and steel and something unmistakably him.
My heart began to race, traitorous and loud.
“I—” I swallowed. “I can ground.”
“Then do it,” Darius said.
His breath brushed my ear.
“Focus.”
I couldn’t.
Not with his hands still on me. Not with his presence flooding every sense I had. My beast stirred, alert and confused, pacing beneath my skin like it didn’t know whether this was a threat or something else entirely.
I lifted the knife again, fingers suddenly clumsy.
Thane cleared his throat. “You know, Alpha, studies show students perform better when they’re not being, how shall I put this, loomed over by their mates.”
Darius didn’t look at him. “You can leave.”
Thane’s grin widened. “Oh, I am absolutely staying.”
I shot Thane a look that said you are dead later.
I inhaled slowly, trying to remember the grounding techniques Dr Voss had taught me. Feel the floor. Feel my weight. Separate instinct from decision.
Darius’s hands shifted again, just slightly.
“Feet,” he murmured. “Wider.”
I adjusted.
“Shoulders down.”
I obeyed.
“Grip loose. You’re choking it.”
I exhaled, forcing my fingers to relax.
For a moment, everything narrowed.
The target.
The knife.
My breath. I threw.
The blade struck dead center.
The sound, solid, satisfying, rang through the hall.
I froze.
Then I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. A small, incredulous smile tugged at my lips.
“I did it,” I said softly.
Darius’s hands fell away immediately, as if he’d only just realized where we were.
“Yes,” he said, his voice steadier now. “You did.”
Thane clapped slowly. “Well damn. Guess looming works.”
I turned, grinning despite myself, until I caught Darius watching me.
There was something in his eyes, lust.
I looked away first.
“Again,” Darius said, stepping back this time, giving me space. “Same stance.”
I nodded, resetting myself, and threw again.
Another clean hit.
Thane whistled. “Okay, Luna. I see you.”
I laughed, softly this time, controlled, and the knife still flew true.
For the first time since everything had started unraveling, I felt… capable.