###Chapter Three : How To Know How To Strike The Enemies

Before that time I had never thrown a punch in my life.

But that was about to change, Ronan said.

We stood in the cold morning air outside the cabin. The sky was still grey, the sun barely above the trees. My fists clenched, my breath puffed in tendrils.

Ronan stalked around me like a disgruntled predator. "The first rule," he said, "is don't hesitate.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't even know what is going on."

"You're learning," he said, flat. "And possibly the only survival skill you possess is learning quickly."

No pressure or anything.

I clenched my jaw. "Okay. What do I do?"

Ronan lifted his hand. "Hit me."

I blinked. "What?"

"Hit me," he repeated. "Aim for my ribs. Right here." He tapped his side.

I stared at him. "You want me to hit you?"

"Yes."

"You're a werewolf."

He smirked. "And?"

"And you're built like a goddamned brick wall."

His smirk widened. "Scared?"

I huffed. "No."

"Then do it."

I hesitated. At which point I took a deep breath, pulled back my fist and swung.

Suddenly Ronan grabbed my wrist. My breath faltered as his fingers dug into my skin, grounding me.

"Too slow," he murmured.

I jerked my hand back, frowning. "At least you could have given me one hit."

"Where's the fun in that?" His golden eyes gleamed.

I groaned. "I hate you."

"Good," he said. "Use that."

I took another swing. Faster this time.

He nimbly avoided it, stepping aside at the last second. I staggered forward, nearly landing on my face.

Ronan chuckled. "You fight like a human."

I turned to glare at him. "I am a human."

His expression darkened. "Not for long."

I swallowed hard and attempted to dismiss the knotting of my stomach he caused. "Try again," he said more gently this time.

I exhaled, steadied and punched again. This time, I aimed lower.

Ronan didn't dodge. He let me hit him.

My fist crashed into his ribs, pain seizing my knuckles for a second as if I'd hit a cement wall.

"Ow —" I recoiled, shaking my hand. "That hurts."

Ronan smirked. "You'll get used to it."

I glared at him, fingers curling. "I think you enjoyed that."

"Maybe."

I groaned. "You are the worst teacher."

He laughed, a warm surprised sound. "You'll survive."

I wasn't so sure about that.

We trained for another hour. Ronan trained me to move — to sidestep, to strike, to stay on my feet. My muscles were throbbing, my lungs were burning, my hands felt like I had been punching rocks.

But now I was not completely useless.

I tumbled down to the cabin steps, panting. "I think I'm dying."

Ronan waved, arms crossed, and leaned against a tree. "You held out longer than I thought you would."

"That was a positive thing, no?"

He smirked. "Almost."

I sighed and rolled my eyes, massaging my sore wrists. "What now?"

Ronan's expression darkened. "Now, we prepare for Kael."

My chest tightened. I still didn't understand why Kael wanted me, but I knew one thing —he wasn't going to give up.

And that also meant I couldn't quit.

I took a deep breath and stared at Ronan. "Then let's prepare."

There was a trace of a smile on his lips. "Atta girl."

What do you think?

Lots of dialogue = fast paced

Arden is Beginning to Learn How to Defend Herself, but falters later

Heat and chemistry Arden and Ronan

The storm before the war

The trees were hollering the sound of wind, the odor of rain pushing through the back door.

I clung to the steps of the cabin, watching the sky turn black. My muscles ached from training, my fingers ached from hitting Ronan. He had barely flinched. I, by contrast, was acquiring bruises in places I didn't realize were bruisable.

"Overthinking," Ronan said from behind me.

I had glanced over, and he was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His golden eyes searched me, unreadable as always.

"You do that all the time," Mr. Biden said.

I sighed. "Can you blame me?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked up and sat down next to me, close enough that even through the cold air I felt the warmth of his body.

"No," he admitted. "I can't."

We both paused, not saying anything for a moment. The surrounding forest was silent — too silent.

Something was coming. We both knew it.

Do you think we have a chance? I asked softly.

Ronan breathed out and drummed his fingers on his knee. "I think Kael doesn't give you enough credit."

I snorted. "I barely scratched you back there."

His lips twitched. "You're getting better."

I gave him a look. "Liar."

He shook his head and laughed. "Fine. You're still terrible. But you're learning."

I nudged his arm. "Your records so good for a girl's self-esteem."

He smirked. "I will try."

The trees shivered with another gust of wind, giving me the creeps.

I hesitated before speaking. "Ronan … what is what do we do if it loses?

His jaw clenched. "We don't."

"That's not an answer."

He turned his head sharply toward me. "Because I don't have one."

I swallowed. "So you have no idea if we're going to survive.

His golden eyes darkened. "I know I'm not going to let Kael have you."

There was something in the way he said this that sent a shiver through me, not out of fear.

I licked my lips. "Why do you care so much?"

Ronan went still. The tension between us became taut, thick and unspoken.

"Because I know what it feels like to be hunted," he said, at last.

My chest tightened.

Before I had a chance to talk, thunder rumbled above.

Ronan stood up, his body going rigid, as if frozen. He shot a glance toward the trees, recoiling as if from a predatory threat.

I stood too. "What is it?"

He didn't answer.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps.

They're distant, but coming closer.

My heart raced as I looked to Ronan. "Kael?"

Ronan's expression was grim. "We'll find out soon enough."

I snatched the dagger he'd given me earlier. My hands were shaking; I gripped tighter.

Ronan gave me a thumbs up and smiled. "You finally learn how to hold that thing?

I glared at him. "Shut up."

The smirk fell from his lips, and his golden, glowing eyes dulled. "Stay close."

The wind picked up, trees dancing to the left and right. The storm was coming.

And so was the fight.

Fast pacing and tension

More Snyder/Brady dynamic between Arden and Ronan

Arden's Fear and Development (A Battle Approaching)