8. Elowen
8
ELOWEN
T he predawn light filters through the trees as I step into the training area, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that clings to my mind. My family's screams still echo in my ears, and I clench my fists, forcing myself to focus on the present.
I stop dead in my tracks when I see him. Aldric, towering and imposing, is pushing a group of vrakken through their paces. The scene stirs a fire within me. The sight of his dark wings spread wide as he barks orders makes my blood boil. Only vrakken are training, no humans in sight.
I march up to him, my heart pounding with anger and determination. "Aldric!" My voice slices through the air, causing several heads to turn.
He looks down at me with those piercing silver eyes, a flicker of surprise quickly masked by his usual stoic demeanor.
"Elowen," he says, voice cool and indifferent. "What do you want?"
"I want to train," I declare, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. And I quickly add as he opens his mouth, "I can keep up."
He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "This isn't a place for humans," he replies.
My anger flares hotter. "You need all the help you can get," I retort, stepping closer. "And I won't stand by while you prepare for war."
Aldric's lips twitch in what might be a smirk, but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. "You think you can keep up?" He shakes his head as I raise my eyebrows, looking over his shoulder at another vrakken. "Okay, then. Prove it," he challenges, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Without hesitation, I step into the training circle, facing him squarely. The other vrakken watch with interest, some whispering among themselves.
"I don't trust you to give me a fair assessment," I say as I face him. My eyes scan the gathered crowd when they snag on Nikolai and Jessa.
"I'm the one in charge here?—"
"I want Nikolai and Jessa to determine if I can fight." I suppress a grin as Jessa's eyes light up. I'm starting to really like her. "They watch it, and what they decide goes."
Aldric's expression is unreadable for a beat, clearly weighing his options. Then, he barks out, "Fine." He crosses his arms over his chest and nods toward a nearby weapon rack. "Pick one."
I choose two small daggers, their weight familiar in my hands. For most, they would seem too small, but I know how to use them to my advantage.
Aldric steps forward, drawing his own blade with an ease that makes my stomach twist with both nerves and excitement. "Let's see if you can keep up," he says.
I grip the daggers, feeling their weight, and take a deep breath. Focus. Aldric circles me like a predator, eyes never leaving mine. He’s expecting brute force, but that’s not my game.
He lunges, swift and powerful. I sidestep, slashing at his exposed side. He spins away, barely missing my blade. A grin spreads across his face. "Quick on your feet," he remarks.
I don’t respond, keeping my focus sharp. He comes at me again, a blur of motion. I duck under his swing, aiming a kick at his knee. He blocks it effortlessly with his arm, muscles rippling beneath his skin. For a moment, I’m mesmerized by the sheer power in his movements.
Snap out of it.
I dart back, using my smaller size to stay just out of reach. His strikes are heavy and precise, designed to overpower. Mine are swift and unpredictable, aiming for weak points.
He swings wide; I roll under his arm and slash at his back. My blade grazes him—barely—but it’s a hit.
Aldric snarls, spinning to face me again. "You’re full of surprises."
"Just getting started," I taunt, keeping my distance.
He charges again. This time I don’t dodge but meet him head-on, deflecting his blade with one dagger while aiming the other at his ribs. His free hand catches my wrist in an iron grip.
I twist sharply, using the momentum to flip over his arm and land behind him. My heart pounds with the thrill of the fight—and something more when I catch sight of his muscles straining under the effort.
Stop it.
I pivot quickly as he turns to face me once more. Our eyes lock for a brief second before he comes at me with renewed vigor. The crowd around us grows silent, their whispers dying down as they watch our every move.
Aldric’s next strike is faster than before; I barely manage to parry it in time. The force sends a jolt through my arms, but I hold firm.
"Not bad," he mutters through gritted teeth.
"Better than not bad," I retort, ducking under another swing and swiping at his legs.
He jumps back just in time, but not without losing balance for a split second—enough for me to dart forward and press an attack. Our blades clash repeatedly in rapid succession; sparks fly from the steel as we dance around each other in the ring.
His strength is undeniable; each blow he delivers feels like it could break bones if it connects fully. But I use my speed and wits to stay ahead—barely.
Every now and then I catch myself glancing at the way his muscles flex or how focused those silver eyes look when zeroed in on me—but then another attack comes my way forcing me back into reality.
I focus on his every move, watching the way his muscles tense before each strike. He’s a formidable opponent, but I know I can outsmart him. He’s used to brute force, to overpowering his enemies. But me? I’m unpredictable.
Aldric lunges again, his blade aimed for my shoulder. I duck and roll to the side, feeling the rush of air as his sword swings past me. As I come up, I throw one of my daggers at him, aiming for his leg. He deflects it with ease, but it was never meant to hit.
The distraction gives me the split second I need. I rush forward, closing the distance between us. He brings his sword down in a powerful arc, but I twist to the side and slam into him with my shoulder. The force catches him off guard, and he stumbles back.
I don’t give him a chance to recover. I’m on him in an instant, slashing with my remaining dagger. He blocks my strikes with his sword, but each one drives him further back. His eyes flash with surprise and a hint of respect.
"How much longer can you keep up," he grunts as he parries another blow. "War is about stamina."
"I could run circles around you," I reply, though I'm panting slightly from the exertion.
I can see the frustration building in his eyes. He’s not used to being pushed like this. It fuels me, makes me push harder. I feint left, then spin right, slashing at his exposed side. He barely blocks it in time.
Our movements are a blur now—an intricate dance of blades and bodies. I dodge under his swing and kick out at his knee. He stumbles again, but this time I’m ready.
I leap up, twisting in mid-air to land behind him. Before he can turn around, I have my dagger pressed against his throat.
The ring falls silent as Aldric freezes. His chest heaves with heavy breaths, eyes wide with surprise—and something else that sends a thrill through me.
"Yield," I demand softly but firmly.
He grunts in frustration but doesn’t move. "Yield," he repeats grudgingly.
I step back slowly, lowering my dagger but keeping my guard up just in case. Aldric straightens up and looks at me with an intensity that makes my heart race for reasons beyond the fight.
Around us, the vrakken murmur among themselves—impressed whispers that fill the air like a hum of approval.
Nikolai and Jessa step forward from where they’ve been watching intently by the sidelines. Nikolai’s jewel-toned amber eyes are alight with interest while Jessa gives me an approving nod.
"You’ve got spirit," Jessa says with a small smile curling her lips. "And potential."
Nikolai adds, "We could use someone like you."
I glance back at Aldric who is still watching me intently and feel a surge of satisfaction wash over me.
Maybe this is just the beginning after all.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. I turn back to Nikolai and Jessa.
"So what do you think? Can I fight?" I ask them directly, my voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.
Nikolai's intense amber eyes meet mine. "You've shown you can hold your own," he says, a note of approval in his voice. "You should train with us."
Jessa nods, her fierce hazel eyes alight with the same determination I feel. "I don't think you'll have a problem keeping up."
I glance back at Aldric, eager to see his reaction. His expression remains guarded, but I catch a flicker of something—respect? Approval?—in his piercing silver eyes.
His jaw clenches as he stares down at me, and I wonder if his pride is going to get in the way again. Aldric might be the most devastatingly handsome man I have ever seen — gods, why can't I stop staring? — but he can be a jerk, too.
"So?" I stare up at him, waiting for him to finally concede.
His eyes roam my face, slipping down my body and back up. I try to tell myself he's just assessing me as a warrior, but it doesn't stop me from heating up as his gaze licks my entire frame.
I'm practically trembling — and not from anticipation — when he finally meets my eyes again. I can tell if I want to tackle this asshole and make him let me join the battalion or finally give into my desires.
But with every second that ticks by, it's definitely becoming the former.