Chapter 14 Training
By the end of the week, Rowan, Tran, and Shakari had claimed me as their side project.
We trained when the terrace was empty. The mats radiated heat; the air hung thick with stone dust and sweat.
Below us, the mess hall clattered with plates and laughter.
Up here, there was only the slap of boots, quickened breaths, and the sharp ring of steel.
It was already Saturday, the end of a brutal training week and they still weren’t letting me leave. My body ached in places I hadn’t known could ache.
Rowan moved like wildfire, fast and unpredictable. Always a step ahead. Tran was the tide, steady, relentless, wearing me down one correction at a time. Shakari circled the edge like a hawk, sharp-eyed and sharper-tongued, catching every flaw and turning it into a lesson.
Rowan lunged without warning.
I raised my guard too late. His hook cracked against my cheek, snapping my head sideways.
“Reset,” Shakari snapped. “You’re dropping your shoulder.”
I adjusted and forced myself steady as Rowan came again. Cross, hook, uppercut. I blocked the first two, ducked the third, and drove a right hook into his ribs. The breath left him in a sharp grunt.
“Better,” Tran said. “Now drive from your hip.”
Rowan smirked. “She’s learning.”
Something hot uncoiled in my chest. I pressed forward, half-step, pivot, and jab. Then, my fist connected. Rowan stumbled back, boots scraping as I shoved him off balance.
“Alright, Princess,” he said, breathless now. “That one’s yours.”
It was a small win, but it burned sweet.
The drills continued until my arms shook and my legs trembled, but with every strike and block, I felt it. I was getting faster. Stronger.
“Break,” Tran finally called.
I dropped onto the bench, legs quivering as the cool stone kissed my skin. Shakari tossed me her flask. I took a swallow, smoky heat sliding down my throat, victory burning in my chest.
“Another round after the break?” Rowan asked.
“Tomorrow,” Shakari answered for me. “She needs rest before we layer more.”
“Bossy,” Rowan muttered, bumping my fist. “Good work, Princess. You’ll be a problem soon.”
“Already is,” Tran said and for once, there was pride in his voice. “Fix your pivot on the left. You’re favoring your right without realizing it. But… nice spine today.”
They started gathering their gear, Rowan tossing me a parting smirk. “We’re off to the bar, free day’s finally here.”
“Two weeks trapped in these towers, and I am so ready,” Shakari said, practically glowing at the thought. She loved a party.
“Sorry, Thea.” She added.
The three of them had won the Hall of Mirrors challenge this week, earning their free night out.
I hadn’t. I still couldn’t beat any magical match yet, either.
I was strong and powerful, but power meant nothing when I couldn’t channel it, couldn’t control my emotions enough to fight like I meant to survive.
Real combat was nothing like the lessons I’d been fed in the Glass Castle.
Out here, adrenaline burned through you.
Your heartbeat thundered in your ears. The magic didn’t flow the same, it surged, wild and unruly.
When your life is on the line, everything changes.
And I… I still couldn’t get myself together enough to prove my worth.
Their footsteps faded into the halls, leaving the terrace wide and quiet. I sat alone, leaning against the guardrail, looking at the shores miles away. This was the first time I felt quiet in my head in two weeks and not surrounded by screams, fights, and blood.
But just as I settled, footsteps echoed behind me.
“Peace offering.”
I turned, already knowing he wouldn’t give me a single minute alone, trying to apologize for being an entitled prick and treating Jan Radke like trash.
Thalen stood a few feet away, a small paper-wrapped parcel in his hand. The smell reached me first, sweet, warm, like home.
It was a bun, still steaming. The kind we used to sneak from the palace kitchen when we were kids in the Glass Castle. I took it without a word, tore it in half, and handed him a piece before taking a bite.
The taste was a doorway, ten years old again, crouched behind a counter with him, both of us laughing through mouthfuls we were sure the cooks would catch us eating.
“You were an ass,” I said bluntly. “But I already lectured you. You probably don’t need to hear it again.”
He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but no words came out.
I sat down first, settling by the guardrail as the sky deepened to shades of violet and gold, the sun sliding toward the horizon. The air was warm, humming softly with the last trace of
day. A moment later, he joined me, sitting close enough that I could feel his presence, though a careful breath of space still lingered between us.
“The horizon looks calm,” he said.
“It does,” I answered.
“It’s probably an illusion. The Auroric Veil hides more than it shows. You can’t see what’s actually happening beyond it.”
He opened his mouth again as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t, so I did it for him. “Come on, Thalen, I know you well; you came to apologize. Just do it.”
“I’m sorry for being overprotective,” he said quietly.
“You don’t need me hovering over you like that.
That poor miner didn’t deserve what I did either.
But I’ll do anything to earn your forgiveness.
” His voice wavered slightly, softening.
He added, “Eventually, we’ll have to marry.
When that day comes, I want you to know I tried to win you back the right way. ”
His fingers brushed mine, tentative at first, as if waiting for me to pull away. I didn’t, though part of me wanted to. Then his hand settled over mine, warm and steady, a weight that felt both familiar and distant at once.
“And… no one else means more to me than you,” Thalen said, his voice lower now. “Marla Yung means nothing. That was… a lapse of judgment. The first-year pressure….”
I met his gaze, letting him see that it was enough, that I didn’t want to hear another word about Marla.
His eyes, bright and gold in the fading light, held nothing but regret and sincerity.
I knew he was sorry. I knew he meant it.
He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, a quiet apology that said more than words ever could.
I turned my gaze back to the sky, where streaks of violet deepened into night.
He still held my hand. I could have pulled away.
I should have, but I didn’t. Instead, I let it stay, watching the quiet space between our fingers, studying their shape as though they belonged to strangers who hadn’t already hurt each other.
Once, that touch had been an anchor. A silent “I’ve got you” in the middle of chaos.
Now, it was something else; an echo of that anchor, blurred and waterlogged. My pulse stayed steady. My chest stayed still. The connection wasn’t gone, but it had been rewired, stripped of the pull that used to draw me toward him without my permission.
And still, I didn’t move. Maybe it was a habit. Maybe defiance, proof I could let him close without letting him in.
His thumb skimmed the edge of my knuckles, slow and absent, and I wondered if he felt it too, that whatever we held between us had already slipped through our fingers.
Heavy footsteps broke the stillness again. I turned and there they were.
Lorik entered first, Ugo at his side, both stopping just inside the archway to the open terrace, mats spread across the floor.
“The terrace is for Dragontail training,” Lorik said, his gaze dropping to our joined hands, “not romantic sunset views.”
His voice carried sass and irritation. I let go of Thalen’s hand and stood up without hesitation. Thalen followed.
Thalen’s voice snapped like a whip. “Always hovering around her, like you’re stalking prey you want to hurt and intimidate.”
Lorik’s reply was almost lazy. “First, we train here after dark every day. Second, she’s a big girl. I’m sure she can fight her own battles without you speaking for her.”
For once, he was right.
And for one dangerous moment, I got lost in those silver eyes, forgot that he and his girlfriend had nearly killed me.
“We were done with sunset watch anyway, Lorik Draventh,” I said, my voice edged with sarcasm “And no, I don’t need anyone’s protection or someone else to handle my fights. Unlike you. You had your girlfriend jump me to settle your score.”
“Girlfriend?” Ugo cut in, but I didn’t pause.
“You and Rory hate me. Fine. Message received. But I’m done playing the nice one. She almost killed me. And here’s something you both keep forgetting: Thea Solenhart is not weak.”
Ugo’s gaze swept over me. “That pride’s cute, Solenhart, but none of this would’ve gone that far if you’d tapped out and known your limits.”
I didn’t respond. He wasn’t wrong.
Instead, as I walked out, I stepped past Lorik, deliberately brushing his arm with my shoulder.
The contact struck like a spark, anger, and something more dangerous, more forbidden, igniting in the space between us. His arm was all lean muscle, warm against mine. That honey-jasmine scent, sharp and intoxicating, wrapped around me before I could stop it.
Before I could leave, he grabbed me by my arm. I heard Thalen protest in the background, but it just shimmered into noise.
Our eyes locked as if searching for something.
“You were too stubborn to stop because, deep down, you can’t stand being a Solenhart,” he said, voice low and merciless. “Deep down, you know exactly how much your family’s brutality has hurt this island. And deep down, you think you deserve to be punished for every sin they committed.”
My mouth opened but nothing came out.
Lorik Draventh had peeled me open with a single sentence, reading through me as if he’d reached straight into my mind and dragged out every buried fear I’d tried to pretend wasn’t there.
“Let me go,” I demanded, but he didn’t.
We just stared at each other, unblinking, unguarded, like our anger had cracked something deeper open between us.
“You don’t know me,” I said finally, my voice trembling with fury. “You’ve made it very clear you don’t care who I am as a person, you only see the last name. And yes, I am a Solenhart. We are ruthless.”
I leaned in, breath sharp.
“I’ll show you ruthless.”
Something twisted in my chest I didn’t recognize.
Anger. Hate. Want.
It all blurred together.
Then I broke the gaze, and he let my arm go, and I just walked away.