Chapter 55

Chapter 55
Lyra’s POV

The training grounds were quieter than usual.

Morning fog still clung to the edges of the clearing, thin silver strands curling around the wooden practice posts and weapon racks. The air smelled of damp earth and pine.

Most of the pack had already finished their early drills.

Which meant the empty ring in the center of the field was currently mine.

Unfortunately.

I folded my arms as I stared at Draven across the training circle.

“So,” I said slowly, “let me get this straight.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re upset about something already?”

“You dragged me out here before breakfast.”

“That’s called discipline.”

“And now you’re telling me I’m not allowed to use the one ability I’ve actually been practicing?”

“Yes.”

“That feels unfair.”

Draven’s mouth twitched slightly.

“That’s because you’ve been relying on it too much.”

“My fire saved the pack two nights ago.”

“And if the fire disappears tomorrow?”

I hesitated.

“It won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

He had a point.

Which was extremely annoying.

Draven stepped into the center of the ring.

“Power is useful,” he said calmly. “But power without control—or instinct—is a weakness.”

“So you’re punishing me.”

“I’m training you.”

“It feels like punishment.”

He ignored that.

“Today we focus on wolf instincts.”

“I don’t have those.”

“You will.”

“How?”

“By learning.”

“That’s a very vague plan.”

Draven gestured toward the open ground between us.

“Come here.”

I didn’t move.

“This feels like a trap.”

“It’s a sparring match.”

“Exactly.”

He sighed.

“Lyra.”

“Yes?”

“If I wanted to trap you, you wouldn’t see it coming.”

“Well that’s reassuring.”

“Get in the ring.”

I reluctantly stepped forward.

The dirt was cool under my boots, the ground packed firm from years of practice fights.

Draven rolled his shoulders once before settling into a relaxed stance.

“No fire,” he reminded.

“I heard you.”

“No tricks.”

“That depends on what counts as a trick.”

He ignored that too.

“First rule,” he said. “Watch your opponent’s center.”

“My what?”

“Center of gravity.”

“Oh.”

“That’s where balance comes from.”

“So if I knock you off balance…”

“You gain the advantage.”

I tilted my head thoughtfully.

“That sounds useful.”

“It is.”

“Are you volunteering to demonstrate?”

A small smirk appeared.

“Yes.”

“Oh good,” I muttered.

Before I could rethink the decision, he moved.

Fast.

One second he stood casually across from me.

The next his hand caught my wrist, twisting gently as he shifted his weight.

I yelped as the world tilted sideways.

The ground rushed up toward me—

And I landed flat on my back.

Dust puffed into the air around me.

I stared up at the sky.

“Well,” I said after a moment. “That was rude.”

Draven stood over me, arms crossed.

“You weren’t watching my center.”

“You moved first!”

“That’s how fights work.”

I groaned and pushed myself up.

“Again.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Confident.”

“Stubborn.”

“Same difference.”

We circled each other slowly.

This time I paid closer attention.

His shoulders.

His stance.

The subtle shifts of weight in his feet.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he said.

“That’s because you’re scary.”

“I’m standing still.”

“You’re standing strategically still.”

His smirk widened.

“Come on, Lyra.”

“Fine.”

I lunged forward.

He blocked easily.

His hand caught my arm again—but this time I remembered what he said.

Center of gravity.

Balance.

Instead of fighting the movement, I shifted with it.

Twisting.

Using his own momentum.

Draven’s eyes widened slightly.

And suddenly he stumbled half a step sideways.

Not a full fall.

But enough.

I froze.

“You almost tripped,” I said.

He blinked once.

“That was… unexpected.”

A grin spread across my face.

“I did it!”

“You adjusted your balance.”

“Yes!”

“That was good.”

“Good?” I repeated. “That was amazing.”

“Let’s not get carried away.”

“Oh please, Alpha. You nearly fell.”

“I did not nearly fall.”

“You absolutely did.”

He stepped closer again.

“Focus.”

“I am focused.”

“You’re gloating.”

“That too.”

He moved again suddenly.

I reacted faster this time.

Blocking.

Turning.

Our hands caught briefly as we struggled for balance.

Then my foot slipped against the dirt—

And we both lurched sideways.

The world spun.

A second later we crashed into the ground together.

The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.

For a moment neither of us moved.

Then I realized something.

Draven was half lying over me, one arm braced beside my shoulder.

Our faces were very close.

Too close.

His breathing was slightly uneven from the sparring.

Mine probably sounded worse.

“Well,” I said quietly.

“Yes?”

“This is awkward.”

“Possibly.”

Neither of us moved.

The air between us felt suddenly charged.

Like the moment before lightning strikes.

I became very aware of the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the faint scent of pine and smoke that always seemed to cling to him.

Draven’s eyes flicked briefly to my mouth before returning to my gaze.

“You did well today,” he said softly.

“That sounds suspiciously like praise.”

“It is.”

“I might faint.”

“That would ruin the moment.”

“Probably.”

We stayed like that for another second.

Maybe two.

Long enough for my heart to start racing for reasons that had nothing to do with sparring.

Then Draven suddenly pushed himself upright.

The spell shattered instantly.

He offered me a hand.

“Training isn’t over.”

I accepted the help up, trying very hard not to notice the lingering warmth in my chest.

“Of course it isn’t,” I muttered.

He tilted his head slightly.

“Problem?”

“No.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“It’s from the exercise.”

“Sure.”

I glared at him.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe.”

I crossed my arms.

“So what’s next, Alpha?”

Draven stepped back into the center of the ring again.

This time his smile was unmistakable.

“Now,” he said, “we see if you can knock me down for real.”