Page 45 of The Midnight Death Match

Einar stands across from me, his stance steady, his expression unreadable. The cracked stone beneath our feet glints where the old mosaic peeks through layers of dirt. “Time to train.”

“Here?” I rub my eyes and sit up.

“Yes. We can’t have you losing the skills you’ve built.”

“But I haven’t eaten yet.”

My father’s brows knit together. “You didn’t haveanythinglast night?”

Does everyone know I shifted and went for a run?

“Fine.” I get up, stretch, then grab my sword and shield. “Let’s do this.”

We go at it, and he pushes me harder than ever before.

When I stop to rest, he lunges for me. “Again. No stopping.”

Gasping, I launch forward, my blade slicing the air between us. He counters easily, knocking my sword aside with the flat of his own. My muscles burn from something coiled tight beneath my skin.

The wolf. It’s closer to the surface today.

My vision sharpens unnaturally, every fleck of dust suspended midair, every heartbeat echoing louder than it should. My hearing homes in on distant creaks in the stone, the quiet flick of my father’s breath before each strike.

I can smell the shift. Anticipate the weakness. I force the thoughts back, but they keep slipping in—primal, instinctive.

“Your footwork’s aggressive today.” Einar circles me. “You’re leading with force, not precision.”

“I’m adapting.”

“Or reacting.”

I strike again, harder this time. Our blades spark where they clash, and for a moment I want to push harder, to overpower, to win.

The wolf wants dominance. My pulse hammers in my throat.

Einar’s eyes narrow slightly. “You feel it.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re trying to cage it again.” He strikes.

I move out of the way. “What choice do I have?”

He steps back, lowering his sword. His gaze sharpens. “You need control, not denial. The more you suppress it, the more power it steals from you.”

I clench my jaw, fighting the frustrated heat rising in my chest. “Have you been talking to Lys?”

That gets his attention. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t deflect.”

I groan.

“What makes you think I’ve been talking to him?”

“Never mind.”