Training Celebration - Austin

Training Celebration - Austin
I grabbed a plate from the counter and loaded it without really tasting anything—bread, meat, something warm that Helen had made. My body knew it needed fuel, even if my mind felt like it was walking through fog. The packhouse was quieter now, the sharp edge of battle dulled into routine movement and murmured conversation.

I told myself that was a good thing.

After a few bites, I found my feet carrying me down the hall toward the library. I didn’t consciously decide it. I just… went.

The door was already open.

Elara stood near the far shelves, a small stack of books tucked under her arm. She was dusting with one hand, humming softly under her breath. It was a simple sound—gentle, almost fragile—but it settled something tight in my chest the second I heard it.

She looked peaceful. Focused. Like she was trying to put the world back in order one shelf at a time.

My chest warmed.

“You look beautiful today,” I said.

The words came out easily. Naturally.

Elara glanced over her shoulder, surprise flickering across her face before she smiled. It wasn’t her full smile—not the one that reached her eyes—but it was close enough that I almost missed the difference.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

She turned back to the shelf, sliding a book into place with care. I watched her longer than I meant to. There was something in her posture—tightness in her shoulders, the way her humming faded—that told me she was carrying more than she was letting on.

Normally, I would have stepped closer. Asked. Touched her hand. Let the bond guide the conversation the way it always had.

I opened my mouth to speak.

Instead, I heard myself say, “I’ll be out late tonight. Going to have a few drinks with the warriors. Don’t wait up.”

The sentence landed between us like a dropped blade.

Elara froze.

Slowly, she turned to face me again. Her eyes searched my face—not accusing, not angry—just… trying to understand.

“Oh,” she said. “Okay.”

That was it. One word. Soft. Controlled.

Something inside me screamed.

That’s not what I wanted to say.

My heart began to pound, hard enough that it echoed in my ears. My jaw tightened as I tried to pull the words back, tried to correct myself.

“Elara, I—”

Nothing came out.

My mouth felt thick. Heavy. Like my tongue didn’t belong to me anymore.

Her brows pulled together. “Austin?”

I took a step toward her—and then another voice moved through my head. Smooth. Cold. Familiar in a way that made my skin crawl.

Not now.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

“No,” I growled under my breath. “No, that’s not—”

I felt it then.

Pressure.

Like something had wrapped itself around my spine and was pulling tight, threading itself through my ribs, my throat, my thoughts. My vision blurred at the edges, a faint purple haze flickering across the room.

Elara’s eyes widened. “Austin, what’s wrong?”

I tried to answer her.

Instead, my body moved.

I slammed my shoulder into the nearest bookshelf.

Wood cracked. Books tumbled to the floor in a cascade of thuds and torn pages. Pain shot through my arm, sharp and grounding—and for one precious second, the pressure loosened.

“It’s not me!” I shouted, the words ripping out of my chest. “Elara, it’s not—”

Black.

Not darkness exactly. More like… absence.

When I came back, the sun was lower in the sky and I was standing on the training grounds.

The men were lined up in loose rows, sweat on their brows, weapons in hand. My mouth was moving again, my voice steady and confident as if nothing had happened at all.

“Good work today,” I was saying. “You adapted fast. That’s what kept us alive out there.”

The warriors nodded, some grinning, some clapping each other on the shoulders.

“Wash up,” I continued. “We’ll celebrate tonight. You earned it.”

They cheered.

I stood there, smiling, clapping a few men on the back as they passed—while inside my head, panic roared.

How did I get here?

The last thing I remembered was Elara’s face. The way her eyes had softened, then shuttered. The sound of wood breaking under my shoulder.

I swallowed hard.

Leo approached me, wiping his hands on a towel. “You okay, Alpha? You spaced out there for a second.”

“Yeah,” I said automatically. “Just tired.”

The lie slid out too easily.

As the men dispersed, I stood alone at the edge of the field, staring down at my hands. They were steady. Strong. Familiar.

And yet they didn’t feel like mine.

Something was wrong.

Deeply wrong.

I could still feel Elara through the bond—not close, not warm the way she usually was—but distant. Guarded. Hurt.

Whatever was happening to me… it was already touching her.

And that terrified me more than any rogue, any blade, any dark magic ever could.

I turned toward the packhouse, dread settling heavy in my chest.

I had to figure this out.

Before whatever was inside me decided to speak again.