Chapter 24

Achilles is surprisingly good at this. I didn’t expect him to be such a patient trainer, but here we are, hours into our first session, and he hasn’t once lost his temper or made me feel incompetent.

His instructions are clear, his movements precise, and his humor—though relentless—keeps me from drowning in my own frustration.

By the time we finish the last lap of our training for the day, I’m exhausted but oddly satisfied.

My muscles ache, but it’s a good ache, the kind that reminds me I’m getting stronger.

As we cool down, I can’t help but ask the question that’s been nagging at me all morning. “How do you know so much about vampire fighting styles? You’re a shapeshifter, not a vampire.”

He grins, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “I’ve been around Valentine long enough to pick up a thing or two. Plus, when you’ve fought as many battles as I have, you learn to adapt. Doesn’t matter if you’re a vampire, a shapeshifter, or a human—fighting is fighting. The basics are the same.”

I nod, though I’m not entirely convinced. There’s something he’s not telling me, but I don’t push it.

Instead, I thank him for the training and head back toward the mansion, my mind already shifting to the next thing I need to do.

The guilt has been building in my chest since the council, a heavy, suffocating weight that I can’t ignore any longer.

I need to talk to him. I need to know if he’s angry, if he blames me, if he regrets bringing me into this mess. I need to know where we stand.

The house is quiet as I make my way up the stairs, my footsteps echoing in the empty halls.

The highest room in the mansion is his, and I’ve never been there before. I’ve never even tried.

But today, I don’t hesitate. I climb the stairs until I reach the top, my heart pounding in my chest.

The door to his chambers is massive, a towering structure of dark wood and intricate carvings. It’s imposing, just like him.

I knock softly, my knuckles barely making a sound against the thick wood. There’s no answer. I try again, louder this time, but still, there’s nothing.

Taking a deep breath, I reach for the handle and turn it. To my surprise, it’s unlocked. The door creaks open, and I step inside, my breath catching in my throat.

The room is dark, so dark that for a moment, I can’t see anything. But then my eyes adjust, and the details begin to emerge.

The walls are a deep crimson, the color of blood, and the floor is made of white marble, its surface gleaming faintly in the dim light.

The furniture is a mix of black and red—a massive bed with crimson sheets, a black couch, a dark wooden table.

The drapes on the bed are white, a stark contrast to the rest of the room, and they flutter gently in the breeze from the ceiling fans.

The air is thick with his scent, a rich, intoxicating mix of cinnamon and something else I can’t quite place.

It fills my lungs, making my head spin. I take a step forward, then another, my eyes scanning the room until they land on him.

He’s lounging on the bed, his golden eyes trained on me. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just watches me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.

I gasp, startled by the suddenness of his gaze.

“What are you looking for?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. “No one is allowed in this part of the house.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “I just… I wanted to talk to you.”

He raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “About what?”

I take a step closer, my hands twisting in front of me. “About Paris. About what happened. I… I need to know if you’re mad at me.”

He sighs, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “If I didn't tell you before, it’s not your fault. I’m not angry. I’m just… thinking. Trying to figure out our next move.”

I nod, but the guilt is still there, gnawing at me. “I just… I feel like I messed everything up. If I had just listened to you—”

“If you had listened to me, they still would’ve come after us,” he interrupts, his tone firm but not unkind. “The council doesn’t need a reason to attack. They just need an excuse.”

Hey, that's what Achilles and Mara have been saying to me.

I bite my lip, my eyes dropping to the floor. “I just… I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore. Whatever plan you come up with, please don’t keep me out of it.”

He hesitates, his gaze softening. “If the plan isn’t detrimental to you, I’ll let you know. But if it is… I can’t promise that. Panic destroys plans, and we can’t afford that right now.”

I nod, though it’s not the answer I wanted. “I understand.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating.

I can feel the mating bond pulling at me, a relentless, invisible force that makes it hard to think, hard to breathe.

I resist it, turning away from him and heading for the door.

But before I can leave, his voice stops me. “North.”

I turn back, my heart pounding in my chest. “Yes?”

He’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. “Achillies would teach you everything you need to know about strength. Trust him.”

I nod, though the words stick in my throat. “I don't need to be told that.”

I turn around again and step out of his chambers, closing the door behind me. The bond pulls at me, a relentless ache in my chest, but I ignore it, focusing instead on the sound of my footsteps as I make my way back down the stairs.