Chapter 16 - Nicholas
The house feels quieter these days. Calmer, even.
Since Donna and I called our truce, things have settled into an easy rhythm, a fragile peace, held together by small routines and unspoken rules.
Mornings begin with the smell of coffee and toast. Sometimes she’s already in the kitchen when I come out, her hair tied up, sleeves rolled to her elbows, flipping through Delilah’s old grimoire while the kettle hums, only interested in learning about her abilities.
We don’t fight anymore. Not openly, anyway. Our conversations are polite, measured, surface-level exchanges about breakfast or training schedules, small-talk about the weather, and shared silences that somehow say more than words.
I tell myself it’s enough. That this amicability is better than the constant arguing and the emotional earthquake we were walking through before.
But every time she looks up at me from across the table, eyes soft in the morning light, I feel that familiar ache stir again—the same one that never really left.
“H-how is training?” I ask, clearing my throat when my voice sounds hoarser than I’d like.
Donna looks up after spooning a mouthful of cereal between her lips, a frown flitting past her brows with confusion.
I ask the same question every day, only because it’s the one link that’s left between us.
Training.
She’s training to fight off the dark lord and his minions.
I married her to protect her from them.
It’s the only reason she’s still here—especially to maintain appearances.
“Training’s fine,” she responds when she swallows the cereal, her eyes hesitating between her spoon and her hand resting beside the bowl.
When she isn’t looking at me, she’s pretty, and when she does look at me with doe brown eyes, she’s ethereal.
I gulp on that thought, because it’s inappropriate between friends.
I’m not supposed to want more. Not after everything that’s happened.
Not after we agreed to start over, but my fated mate sits across from me, believing that we’re nothing more than friends, while my chest physically aches to have her in my arms.
I’m dying inside.
“Have you thought about expanding your training?” I ask, devising a plan that my inner wolf agrees with—one that will allow us to get closer. Maybe. It’s a chance I need to take.
“Expanding? What do you mean?” she asks with a deeper frown this time, prompting me to straighten up in my chair and offer her my most charming smile to win her over.
“Combat training. Like one-on-training to strengthen your human body in case you’re not able to shift,” I suggest, and she scoffs.
“Dom put me through enough of that when I was younger,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes.
“Well, it could be beneficial to combine combat training with your magic. Sounds like a deadly combo,” I wink, and Donna shakes her head, so I continue. “I’ll train you myself. My strategies differ from Dom’s, so you can learn some new tricks.”
Donna chuckles wryly under her breath, sets her fork down into her empty bowl, and rises to her feet. “Gwen already has me on a tight schedule with training. I don’t think I can fit in combat training,” she says with a shrug.
With my ego bruised and my heart shattering into pieces on the floor at my feet, I lower my head and pick up my coffee. So, Donna doesn’t want my help with training, and it’s either because she doesn’t need me or she doesn’t want to get close to me again.
I watch her leave for her daily training before I stand up from the table and make my way to my study, feeling the void in my chest from not having her nearby.
The pull toward her feels heavier than it should, and I sigh once I’m inside the study, but it doesn’t bring me much relief—especially when I spot the small velvet box on my desk.
I’ve moved it a dozen times in the past two weeks, always telling myself I’ll put it away for good, but I never do.
I take a seat behind my desk and flip open the lid of the box, the silver pendant with a simple teardrop moonstone on a thin silver chain glimmering as the sunlight filters through the blinds, as if it’s mocking me.
It was supposed to be Donna’s graduation gift.
I bought it months ago, before the chaos, before Tobias, before our lives got tangled again.
Now, it just sits here, a reminder of everything we lost and everything we’re still pretending not to feel.
I run my thumb over the stone, sighing. “Could’ve been different,” I murmur under my breath, my wolf stirring restlessly.
Go to her, it whispers to me mentally.
“Not today,” I whisper in return. “She made it clear she needs space.”
My wolf doesn’t agree, growling in my head, but I ignore him, the way I’ve been doing lately. It’s the only way I’ll stay sane.
***
By the end of the week, I’m crawling toward insanity.
The air around the property hums with a different kind of energy, and it’s mostly because Donna’s training has intensified. I catch a glimpse of her through the kitchen window as she stands in the backyard, hands lifted, eyes shut, the faint shimmer of gold light wrapping around her like a halo.
Delilah and Gwen watch her closely, murmuring instructions, correcting her stance, and encouraging her when her concentration wavers.
A sigh falls from my lips as I set my empty mug from my afternoon coffee in the sink, my eyes fixed on Donna.
It’s strange, seeing her like this—so focused, so fierce.
The quiet determination in her eyes could burn through stone.
She’s no longer the girl who hesitated or doubted her power. She’s becoming something else entirely.
Someone unstoppable.
Someone who’s becoming increasingly difficult to stay away from.
That’s why I find myself gravitating toward her despite trying my utmost to resist. That pull keeps tugging me toward her until I’m outside.
I keep my distance, pretending I’m just passing through when I linger at the edge of the house.
But the truth is, I can’t look away. Watching her command the elements, draw energy from the earth, and bend it to her will does something to me.
I admire the graceful way she flicks her wrist, and pride swells in my chest when she commands a bucketful of water into the air.
Something deeper is awakened when she swirls that water in the air, turning it into a small cyclone.
It’s something dangerous that’s being awakened.
When her magic crackles across her palms and lights up the clearing in a pulse of gold, Gwen beams proudly. “That’s it! You’re stabilizing the current now. Excellent focus.”
Donna’s face lights up with genuine joy, her laughter ringing through the air as she releases the water into soft particles that rain down on her like a tender whisper.
My chest tightens at the sound. It’s been so long since I heard her laugh like that, and it sparks joy in my heart, curling my lips into an appreciative smile.
Delilah glances over and catches me watching. Her expression softens with knowing amusement, but she doesn’t say anything. She just gives me that witchy little smirk that says I’m hopeless before turning back to Donna.
Donna finally notices me standing there like a stalker, leaning against the wall with my arms folded and my lips curled in an enchanted smile. She instantly tenses—I can see it from the way her shoulders tighten and her jaw stiffens.
“Gwen and I are gonna take a break,” Delilah tells her from across the yard, grabbing Gwen’s hand.
Donna’s jaw drops slightly, but she glances over her shoulder at me and then straightens out her expression.
“Er—yeah,” she finally relents, about to approach her friends. “I think I’m gonna join you. I also need a break.”
“No. You need to practice,” Delilah says sternly, and I see Donna’s creamy cheeks losing color as she hangs back. Delilah nods at me briefly. “I think you’re ready for one-on-one combat training.”
I can’t stop the smirk that curls my lips, even as Donna stands frozen, staring at Delilah through narrowed eyes as Delilah and Gwen head toward me.
“You owe me…” Delilah whispers as she passes me, and I offer her a curt nod as thanks.
The sky is painted with streaks of orange and rose as the sun dips behind the tree line, bathing Donna in an ethereal glow that makes her appear like a furious goddess.
Now that we’re alone in my backyard—which has since become Donna’s training ground—I notice the sweat glistening on her temples as I approach.
Her nostrils flare, and she marches off toward the shed behind the house, returning with a dagger gripped in each hand.
“I told you I didn’t need combat training,” she says, eyes narrowed into venomous slits as she glares at me. “I know you and Delilah are close, but you didn’t have to be so sneaky.”
Chuckling lightly, I roll my head to the sides, cracking my neck. “I swear I had nothing to do with this.” It couldn’t be truer. Delilah and I might have been in ops together for four years, and she’s my closest friend, but I had nothing to do with her leaving Donna and me alone like this.
In fact, I have reason to suspect that Delilah knew about the one-on-one thing because Donna told her about my suggestion the other day.
“I still find it very sneaky,” Donna warns, lifting the daggers on either side of her face. “You were watching me. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
“Old habits,” I reply with a shrug. “You’re gonna wear yourself out if you keep going without a break.”
She wipes her brow with the back of her hand. “I’m fine. You heard what D said. I need to practice. I’m ready for one-on-one training,” she says sarcastically, and I catch it in the way her brown eyes glow with bitterness.
I cross my arms, unconvinced. “I still think you need a break.”
“And I still think you’re a coward,” she scoffs. “What’s wrong, Nicholas? Afraid I’m gonna kick your ass?”
I chuckle, amused. “Afraid of you? I’m not afraid.”
“Yeah, well, you were possessed by dark magic. You should sit down before I throw you down.” Donna’s hands tighten over the handles of the daggers, knuckles paling as she settles into her defensive stance.
Narrowing my eyes at her, I lean forward like a predator, my eyes focused on her, my hands tingling with readiness. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” she challenges, holding her firm expression.
“You really wanna test me, huh?” I arch a brow, and Donna remains unfazed by my attempts to charm her.
“Always, Alpha….”
The way she says my rank, dripping off her tongue like honey, does something to rouse my inner wolf, stir my body into awareness. A growl—not threatening, but alive—ripples through my chest, sending me lunging forward.
Donna sidesteps quickly, light on her feet, agile in human form, the faint glint of her magic flaring around her ankles and wrists. I go for her left, but she anticipates the move, ducking under my arm and jabbing me lightly in the ribs with the hilt of her dagger.
“Point for me,” she says smugly.
I shake my head, a low chuckle rumbling in my chest. “You’re faster than I expected.”
“Maybe you’re just slower,” she retorts.
“Let’s go,” I say, cracking my neck again and preparing for another round.
Donna’s movements are sharp, deliberate, anticipating, and dodging my every move, jabbing me in the ribs and collecting her points. She’s well-versed in combat, blending physical technique with flickers of magic that dance along the blades.
“Let’s face it, I’m better than you at this,” she chuckles, sticking out her tongue at me.
Her teasing tone makes the air thicker somehow, and I move again, faster this time, catching her wrist mid-swing and twisting gently until she drops the blade. She gasps, but before she can retaliate, I sweep my leg behind her thighs and pin her to the ground in one fluid motion.
Her back hits the dirt softly, my hand braced beside her head.
For a second, neither of us moves, our eyes meeting and keeping us both frozen in time, frozen in the moment where nothing else matters except us.
Her breath comes in shallow bursts, and a loose strand of hair falls over her face. I reach out without thinking, brushing it aside with my fingers. The moment my skin touches hers, something electric pulses through me—the bond, dormant but alive, whispering between us.
Her gaze locks on mine, wide and uncertain, and for a fleeting heartbeat, everything around us fades. The world shrinks to the sound of our breathing, the warmth of her body under mine, the way her lips part just slightly.
“Mate….”
My wolf’s voice is a growl in my chest, hungry, insistent.
Donna’s eyes flicker, something unreadable passing through them. Then, before I can blink, she twists her hips and flips us both, magic flaring around her like a burst of wind.
Now I’m the one on my back, staring up at her, stunned. She’s straddling my waist, her palms pressed against my chest to keep me down, strands of hair framing her flushed face.
Her lips curve into the faintest smile. “Ready to admit defeat?”
I laugh breathlessly, caught somewhere between admiration and disbelief. “You cheated.”
“It’s called strategy,” she says, a mischievous spark in her eyes.
The tension hums between us again, heavier this time. Her hands linger on my chest, a beat too long, her breath mingling with mine. The golden shimmer of her magic still glows faintly where her fingers touch my skin, warm and alive.
I swallow hard, resisting the urge to reach up, to pull her closer. “You’re really good at this,” I say quietly, trying to ground myself in something safe, something steady, by attempting to take my attention off her face.
I fail dismally, my heart skipping a beat when she tilts her head, eyes softening.
“I have a good sparring partner. I liked being challenged,” she admits.
The words land deeper than they should, and for a long, silent moment, neither of us moves again.
Then she blinks, breaking the spell, and climbs off me with a quick, self-conscious laugh. “You should rest, Nicholas. You still have a bad shoulder.”
I push up onto my elbows, smirking faintly. “My shoulder has long since healed. You just want to quit while you’re ahead.”
“Maybe.” She throws me a playful glare over her shoulder as she heads toward the back porch, the last light of sunset catching in her hair.
I stay there a while longer, sitting in the dirt, watching her walk away. The bond hums quietly under my skin, less like a burn now and more like a heartbeat, and it’s steady, patient, waiting for Donna to make the first move.
And for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t feel like what we have is lost for good.
It feels like there’s hope.