C H A P T E R F O R T Y – F O U R
If this is uncontrolled… she’s going to be unstoppable once she controls it.
C H A P T E R F O R T Y – F O U R
Olwyn
I t’s nice to be back in training.
My ribs hurt, but I’m eager to get back to the ma t? —hopefully not thrown on my back today. Iolas stands in the centre, his arms crossed as he watches me approach. His expression is serious, but there’s a glint of something in his eyes.
The air feels heavy with anticipation, but it’s different from the tension I’ve felt with Altair. This is lighter, more familiar, but still electric in its own way.
“Ready?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
I nod, rolling my shoulders. My ribs are still sore from the attack, but the salve Iolas applied again last night helped. I can feel the dull ache, but it’s manageable. Nothing I can’t push through.
“Let’s see what you’ve got today,” Iolas says, rolling his shoulder, his body loosening and relaxing, but I know better than to mistake that for complacency. He’s always on guard, even when he looks at ease.
I take a deep breath and settle into a fighting stance, my feet planted firmly on the ground, my hands raised. Iolas circles me, his eyes sharp as they flicker over my form, watching for any sign of weakness.
“Your stance is better,” he remarks, his voice casual but encouraging. “You've gotten stronger.”
I feel a flicker of pride at his words, but I don’t let it distract me. Instead, I focus on him—on the way his weight shifts ever so slightly, on the way his eyes narrow just before he moves.
He lunges, fast and precise, but I’m ready this time. I pivot, stepping aside just as his arm shoots out, his fist missing me by inches. The movement feels instinctual now, almost automatic, and for a moment, I’m surprised by how natural it is.
Iolas grins, clearly impressed, but he doesn’t give me time to catch my breath. He’s on me again, his fists a blur as he attacks with a flurry of quick, precise strikes. I dodge the first few, my body moving on instinct, but then he catches me with a light tap to the shoulder—a reminder that he’s still in control, still faster.
“Good,” he says, stepping back to give me space. “You’re moving more on instinct. That’s what you need to survive.”
I nod, wiping a bead of sweat from my brow. My heart’s racing, but it’s not from fear. It’s from exhilaration—the rush of knowing I’m improving, of knowing I’m getting stronger.
“Again,” I say, and there’s a determination in my voice that wasn’t there before.
Iolas doesn’t hesitate. He moves toward me again, but this time I’m faster. I duck beneath his arm, using my momentum to spin around and land a quick jab to his side. It’s not enough to hurt him—not really—but the contact is solid, and I feel a thrill of victory as I pull back.
His eyes widen slightly, more in surprise than pain, but then he grins, a wide, playful smile that makes my chest flutter in a way I try to ignore.
“Nice hit,” he says, his voice laced with approval. “But don't get cocky.”
Before I can respond, he’s moving again, faster this time, and I barely have time to dodge, turning. His fist grazes my ribs, and I wince, the dull ache flaring up again. Iolas pauses, his eyes widening as he notices the way I flinch.
“You all right?” he asks, his voice softer now, more concerned.
I force a smile, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods, stepping back slightly to give me more room. I can tell he’s holding back, watching out for my injury.
“Iolas,” I say, straightening up and meeting his gaze. “Don’t go easy on me.”
His eyes flicker with something—respect, maybe—but he nods. “All right. But if you feel like you need to stop, you tell me.”
I nod, and the fight resumes.
This time, I’m ready for him. I move with more confidence, more purpose, and when he lunges, I counter. I dodge his strikes, my body twisting and turning with the rhythm of the fight. There’s a certain fluidity to it now, a flow that feels almost natural. My instincts are sharper, my movements quicker. And when I see an opening, I take it.
I lunge forward, aiming a punch at his side. He blocks it, but I don’t stop. I keep moving, pressing forward, my fists flying as I attack. I land a solid hit on his shoulder, and another to his chest, and for a moment, I think I’ve got him.
But then, in a blur of movement, he grabs my wrist, twisting just enough to throw me off balance. I stumble, but before I can hit the ground, he pulls me back up, his grip firm but gentle.
“You’re getting faster,” he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “I’m impressed.”
I grin, breathless but exhilarated. “I have a good teacher.”
He laughs, a warm, easy sound that makes me feel lighter somehow, I feel elated to see him laughing again.
We stand there for a moment, catching our breath, and his eyes lock with mine. I’m aware of how close we are, of the way his chest rises and falls in time with mine. I’m aware of the warmth of his hand still on my arm, the way his fingers press gently against my skin.
And then, just as quickly as it happened, the moment passes. He lets go of my arm, stepping back with a playful smile.
“You’re getting there,” he says, his tone teasing now. “But you still haven’t landed a punch strong enough to knock me down.”
Like that would even be a possibility.
“Maybe next time,” I reply, matching his grin. How the hell would I be strong enough to knock down a six-foot seven vampire?
Iolas chuckles, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary before he finally steps away.
“You’ve improved a lot, Olwyn,” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m proud of you.”
The words hit me harder than I expect. The moment they leave his lips, a warmth blooms in my chest, spreading through me like wildfire. Proud ? He’s proud of me?
Something tightens in my throat, something I wasn’t prepared for, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. I blink quickly, trying to hide the sudden wave of emotion that threatens to crash over me.
It’s ridiculous, really. One small sentence, just four words, and yet they pierce through every wall I’ve built around myself. They hit me somewhere deep, somewhere I didn’t even realise was craving it.
I’ve never really heard those words out loud before. Not from anyone who meant it. Not from anyone who actually saw me.
Iolas narrows his eyes, slightly spotting my reaction as the heat creeps up my neck, and I feel my cheeks flush.
“Thanks,” I mumble, my voice embarrassingly small, but I can’t help it. My heart pounds in my chest, and there’s a giddiness bubbling up that I’m trying desperately to suppress.
But it’s the way he looks at me that undoes me. The sincerity in his gaze, the way he sees me. Not as someone broken or weak, but as someone worthy of praise.
I don’t know why that last thought sends a wave of heat through me, but it does.
He smiles, a soft, almost affectionate look crossing his face. “Now, let’s try that magic again.”
Just like that, my heart sinks. I knew this was coming, and I’m dreading it. The last time I tried in training, I felt… nothing. Just empty. But I know I need to keep trying.
I nod, taking a deep breath and stepping back into position. Iolas watches me carefully, his eyes never leaving mine as I close my eyes and focus.
I reach inside myself, searching for that spark, that power that I felt when I saved Altair. But no matter how hard I try, there’s nothing. Just the hollow echo of my own frustration.
I open my eyes, shaking my head. “I can’t do it.”
Iolas steps closer, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It came to you in a life-or-death situation, it’ll come again when you’re ready.”
His words are kind, but they do little to ease the disappointment gnawing at me. I wanted to show him—show both—that I’m not weak, that I can handle this. But right now, all I feel is powerless.
“Let’s focus on what you can control,” Iolas says, his tone steady. “You’re getting stronger every day, Olwyn. Don’t lose sight of that.”
I nod, trying to force a smile. “You’re right.”
But as I look up at him, his eyes filled with nothing but support and kindness, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever truly master the power inside me. And worse, if I don’t, it means I might not be able to protect the people I care about when the time comes.
Altair, Iolas, Ailith.
Sera, Thalia.
All those in Elderglen.
I can’t fail. I can’t fail them.
But there must be something I am missing. Some reason I can’t pull it forward.
For now, all I can do is keep training. Keep trying. And hope that soon, I’ll be able to control the magic coursing through my veins.
Because I never know when I might need it again.