Chapter Thirty-Two
Shaw Black
The clang of steel reached me before I even stepped into the training yard.
I’d just returned from visiting with my brother, Talon.
It was hard for me to see him like this, but I made sure to check in on him every day and give him updates on how things were running in his absence.
He would physically stay behind while we all left for Solace, but we would carry him in our hearts to battle.
I coughed, trying to clear my throat, the heat and dry air not settling well.
It was nothing like the humid comfort of Solace or the mild forest climate of Silver Meadows.
Here, sweat vanished almost as soon as it formed, giving the illusion of clarity.
My skin felt tight and cracked. My throat was raw.
Gods, even my lips stung every morning as I awoke in my room.
I paused at the edge of the training ring, letting my eyes adjust to the dance of sunlight on metal as it flew through a cloud of dust, following the pull in my chest.
I smiled as I crossed my arms and leaned against the sandstone wall, watching my mate spar with deadly precision in the fury of sand that danced around her footsteps. Zola moved like a lethal strike of lightning, meeting her opponent with deadly precision and ferocity.
Gunnar, whom I had come to tolerate, matched her step for step. His grin was wide, his ego practically radiating off him like the blistering heat of this place.
I had to admit, I’d underestimated his skill, along with his ability to relate and lead his warriors. He was cocky, infuriating, and yet… watching them spar, I couldn’t deny his skill.
Envy wasn’t a good color on me, I’ll admit. But the unsealed mate bond was driving me into a frenzy. Causing me to become overly protective, needing to be near her, touch her, or at the very least hear her voice beyond the divide of our rooms.
The sound of clanging steel brought me back.
There was a rhythm to their fighting, a dynamic push and pull, and beneath it, a deep sense of respect earned through years spent together in Silver Meadows.
Gunnar wasn’t threatening her. He was testing her, and judging by the determined look in Zola’s eyes, she welcomed it. No. She thrived on it.
I tightened my jaw. My pulse ticked in my ears, not from fear, but from… something else.
Jealousy? Maybe.
It was irrational, of course. Gunnar wasn’t a threat—not to her, or me. Their bond, whatever it was, was built on trust and history, not lust. I’d learned that during my recovery, when Zola would sit and talk with me, keeping me company.
I was surprised at first, not knowing what to think, but then, for once, I stopped thinking and listened.
I listened to her talk about her early life in Crimson City.
Her time in Aelius and then Silver Meadows.
My mate was well over five centuries old, full of wisdom and vast experiences I longed to learn more about.
And, from my research, I was overjoyed to learn that if she allowed our bond to be sealed, we could live a thousand more years together.
I took a careful step forward onto the training grounds, watching Zola as she spun, twisting away from Gunnar’s blade with a grace that made my chest tighten.
Those black stripes across her tawny skin shimmered faintly in the sun, each movement revealing a power and precision I could never fully emulate.
And yet, I wanted to try.
Gunnar laughed again, a booming, arrogant sound that carried across the yard. “Hey, Shaw!”
I held up my hand, giving the general a nod.
“You’re up next, if you feel up to it,” Gunnar said, wiping his brow.
“Are you cleared to train?” Zola asked.
I rolled my neck and stepped into the training circle. “Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
I ignored Gunnar’s side comment as he moved from the ring, keeping my attention on Zola. I noted the slight arch of her back as she moved in her session, the tightening of her fingers around her hilt, the minuscule pivot of her foot that told me exactly where she planned to move.
My mind cataloged it all, measuring distance, timing, and potential openings.
“You move like a predator,” I said.
The hint of a smile curved at the corner of her mouth.
Gunnar smirked over my shoulder. “The best way to prepare for battle together is to know how your allies fight. Which is why I am pairing all shifters and humans in rings today.”
“For once, you had a good idea. Don’t let it get to your head,” Zola said.
Gunnar narrowed his eyes at Zola and leaned close, handing me a blade. “Good luck. Don’t let her get too close, or else you’re done for.”
“Noted.”
The mate bond tugged beneath my ribs, drawing my gaze back across the ring.
Gunnar clapped his hands together and stepped back. “Alright. Begin.”
I swallowed and stepped into the ring. My side still ached faintly from the wound that had nearly ended me weeks ago, but the pain was nothing compared to the focus sharpening in my chest. Skylar’s magic brought me back from the brink of death, but I was drained.
And my alpha ordered me to rest and recover.
Zola turned to face me, eyes unreadable, black as the space between stars—endless and mesmerizing. Her expression softened faintly, just enough for me to glimpse her excitement for our sparring match.
There was a challenge there, one that both infuriated and excited me. Shifters were born to fight, to respond to a challenge, and rise above.
My little shadow better be ready for me.
“Ready?” she asked, voice low but steady.
“Always,” I replied.
We circled one another, carefully testing and measuring strengths and weaknesses in the slow motions around the ring. The world beyond us faded—the shouts of the other warriors, the metallic tang of the yard. Even Gunnar’s cackling all but disappeared beneath the intensity of my focus.
Zola struck first.
She was ruthless, fast, and precise. Her blades were silver arcs in the reflecting sunlight. I blocked her first strike. The force of the vibration of metal on metal shivered up my arm. I noted the small adjustment she made as she followed through—tiny, subtle, a detail most would have missed.
But not me.
Her wrist twisted, and one of her blades nicked my shoulder. Pain flared, bright and immediate. I breathed through it, keeping calm, cataloging the strike.
That’s nothing, I thought. I’ll let her have that.
I countered, pivoting to use her momentum against her.
My own blade cut low, forcing her to twist away from a deadly strike to her thigh.
Her eyes flicked to mine for a second, with a flash of acknowledgment showing in her smirk.
She recognized skill when she saw it. It pleased me on a primal level to know I was impressing her.
“You’re holding back,” she said.
“So are you,” I replied.
She huffed a laugh, her grin feral.
Then in the next second, she leaped toward the corner of the ring cast in shadow and vanished. I only caught the faintest shift of air where she had been, searching for where she might appear next.
I adjusted my stance, knowing she could leap into any shadow and then quietly stalk me from a new position. My instincts sharpened.
Unfortunately for her, I could sense her even when she was unseen. The bond hummed faintly beneath my skin, guiding me. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes to concentrate, blade at the ready.
Come and get me, my little shadow.
In a blur, I sensed her reappear behind me, throwing a blade aimed at my spine.
I spun in time, steel meeting steel with a loud clang, causing the hairs along my arms to lift.
My panther surged inside me, claws itching, muscles coiling.
A heat stirred within as my shifter magic rose to the surface.
I hadn’t released my panther since the day I almost died.
The world snapped into focus—every sound, every scent, every minute movement of her body as she stalked me around the ring.
Leaning my head back, I glanced at my mate. “Get ready.”
In the next instant, I shifted, and everything came into clear focus. Fur replaced skin in a beat, and I landed on all fours, tail sweeping behind me. The true predator that lived within my soul was now awake.
She froze for a moment. Then the faintest smile crested her lips. “Well… now it’s a real fight.”
I growled softly, not as a threat, but a promise.
She vanished again, leaving only the shadowed space where she’d been. I followed instinctively, my senses stretching, my heart racing, yet I remained calm, calculating, predicting.
We moved through a warrior’s dance of blades and claws.
Strike, vanish, counter, lunge—each of us measuring the other, testing, learning.
Each strike carried meaning. Each attack was a conversation in a language only we knew.
Every time I thought I had her cornered, she melted into darkness and appeared again, blades repositioned and ready to attack once more.
Gunnar’s voice cut through the hum of concentration. “Shifter, you might want to watch your tail.”
I rolled my eyes as a small snort escaped me. Gunnar had a unique way of lifting the tension, even in the middle of a fight.
We battled on until both of us were out of breath and shaking.
Once I was able to catch her, pinning her to the ground until my form blocked the sun, allowing her to jump away once more.
And then she nearly had a knife to my throat, but I was able to use my tail to smack her wrist—a trick I hadn’t thought to utilize in the past.
“Alright. That’s enough,” Gunnar announced.
“What?” Zola said.
“We leave for Solace in two days. I’m not going to allow you two to exhaust yourselves… Or lose an appendage.”
I shifted back into my human form, muscles tense, but at least my breathing seemed to be under control. My heart still thundered from the thrill of my fight with Zola, but I forced it to calm, closing the space between myself and my mate.
Gunnar’s grin was wide as his gaze darted between Zola and me. “Gods, the two of you together are a sight. Remind me never to get between you. Or wait, maybe I should? Just for fun.”
I ignored his jest, focusing on Zola. Her chest rose and fell steadily as I stood before her, close enough to feel her breath and count the lashes along her eyes.
“A draw?” she asked softly.
“For now,” I replied.
Something passed between us, unspoken but undeniable—respect, trust, and perhaps… understanding.
Gunnar clapped once, satisfied with our training. “Now go get cleaned up and rest. You both stink.”
“Noted, but I have been idle for too long. I need to train some more,” I said flatly. Although I felt the corner of my lip curl into a smirk while imagining what Zola looked like naked and wet.
Zola rolled her eyes at Gunnar, muttering something I didn’t catch. But when she looked at me, there was a spark—reminding me that our bond was growing.
The thread between us hummed, and I could have sworn she could sense my rising emotions. The desire. The need to claim her was becoming damn near impossible to resist.
But still, I held myself back.
I studied her as she stepped away, almost reluctantly, melting back into the shadows. I observed how her energy lingered in the space she’d occupied. I cataloged everything—every movement, every posture, every reaction—because that was what I did best. And she was my favorite thing to study.
Tonight, she mouthed silently.
I raised a brow in question.
“I’ll find you tonight,” she said, before jumping away into the shadows.
“Time to check in on the others,” Gunnar said. “You’re welcome to come join in if you’d like. Magnus is always looking to spar with someone these days.”
I nodded, following Gunnar’s lead.
I let myself breathe, slow and deep, feeling the bond pulse against my chest even with Zola’s absence.