Chapter 6
The morning air was cool, crisp, and oddly still—as if the whole world was holding its breath.
When I reached the training grounds, it was empty, just as I expected. Most students didn’t come here unless they were training to become warriors. Omegas like me? We didn’t belong in places like this.
But Ian did.
And when I saw him leaning against the fence, arms crossed, looking like sin carved into flesh, I knew I was exactly where I shouldn’t be.
His eyes flicked to me the second I stepped into the clearing.
“You came,” he said simply.
“You told me not to ignore it,” I replied, keeping my distance.
He gave a low chuckle, stepping forward. “I didn’t think you’d listen.”
“I don’t usually,” I said. “But you… confuse me.”
That made him pause.
His jaw tightened, and for a second, I saw the boy beneath the Alpha. Not the danger. Not the arrogance. Just a guy trying to figure things out.
“I confuse myself too,” he muttered.
We stood there, silence stretching between us like a thin wire, ready to snap. Then he broke it.
“I wanted you to come here for a reason,” he said. “Not just to talk.”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I want you to train.”
I blinked. “Train? Me?”
“You said it yourself. The pack isn’t safe. You’re not safe. If you’re going to be mine…” he trailed off, then corrected himself, “If we’re going to be anything… you need to know how to defend yourself.”
I crossed my arms, heart thudding. “You’re assuming a lot.”
He stepped closer, and I didn’t move away this time.
“No,” he said quietly. “I’m hoping. For once, I’m hoping for something real.”
That… disarmed me.
I nodded slowly. “Fine. Teach me. But don’t go easy on me just because you think I’m fragile.”
He grinned, slow and wicked. “Trust me, I wasn’t planning to.”
He handed me a staff, light but solid. I gripped it, unfamiliar with the weight.
We started slow. He showed me how to hold it, how to balance my stance, how to move without tripping over my own feet.
At first, I was terrible. Embarrassingly so.
But Ian didn’t laugh. He didn’t mock. He corrected me, patiently, with calm hands guiding mine.
“You’re not weak,” he said at one point, when I groaned and dropped the staff. “You’ve just never been taught how to be strong.”
Something about those words dug deep into me.
I picked the staff back up.
An hour passed. Then two.
By the end, my muscles ached, my palms were sore, and my legs trembled—but I didn’t stop.
When we finally paused, Ian handed me a bottle of water. I gulped it down, breathing hard.
He watched me with a strange look in his eyes—something soft. Something dangerous.
“What?” I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
He stepped forward, took the bottle from my hand, and tossed it aside.
“You have no idea how strong you really are, do you?”
My breath caught.
“No one’s ever told me,” I whispered.
“Then let me be the first.”
His hand slid around my waist, pulling me close. His forehead touched mine, and I closed my eyes, unsure if it was from fear or something else entirely.
“You’re not just some girl hiding in glasses and baggy clothes,” he said, voice low. “You’re fire under ice. You’re mine, Ava. Whether you admit it or not.”
Before I could argue, before I could speak, his lips brushed against mine—barely a kiss, just a promise.
And just like that, everything inside me changed.