Chapter 195

Draven.
Morning had barely settled its light over the yard when I stepped away from the house.
I’d changed into my training clothes—black trousers and a loose dark tunic that freed my shoulders and arms—though today, I wasn’t the one who would be fighting.
Still, it felt wrong to stand on the sidelines in anything less.
The breeze was mild, brushing across the training grounds and carrying the familiar scent of earth, sweat, and iron.
My boots crunched over gravel as I walked, each step measured, though something gnawed quietly at my chest.
Wanda was already there.
She stood at the center of the grounds, stretching her arms across her chest, her braid pulled tight, clothes fitted close to her body for movement.
She looked up as she heard my approach, surprise flashing across her sharp features.
“Well, this is unexpected,” she said, her tone edged with amusement. “What are you doing here, Alpha?”
I arched a brow, folding my arms over my chest. “What? You thought I would let you train her without me present?”
Her smirk widened. She planted her hands on her hips, her posture loose and cocky. “Scared I will kill your little wife?”
“Cut it out, Wanda,” I muttered, the warning in my voice low but unmistakable.
She tilted her head, her eyes glinting, not in apology but in challenge.
“She’s running late,” Wanda observed, scanning the empty edge of the yard. “Don’t tell me she’s too frightened to come out.”
“She’s not exactly in the best mood,” I answered, voice dry.
Wanda’s gaze narrowed slightly. “Does she know it’s me she will be facing today?”
“Not yet,” I said, exhaling a breath I hadn’t meant to hold. “But she’s about to find out.”
Truth was, I could already picture the look on Meredith’s face when she realized.
A small, selfish part of me dreaded it—because I’d seen those looks before. That flicker of betrayal, of trust chipped away by harsh choices.
But she wouldn’t have come at all if I had warned her ahead of time.
She needed this. Even if she didn’t understand that now.
Wanda’s smirk curled up again. “Good,” she murmured. But her eyes, quick and hungry, gave away the real truth.
She was practically vibrating with anticipation, craving the moment Meredith’s eyes would widen in disbelief.
Before I could think longer on it, I caught the faint sound of footsteps on gravel.
Meredith appeared from the corner, dressed in her training clothes—a simple fitted tunic, her silver hair tied back.
Her face was drawn, lips pressed thin, shoulders tense. She wasn’t here because she wanted to be; she was here because duty pushed her forward.
And then she lifted her gaze.
Her eyes landed on Wanda.
I saw the moment it happened—the shock that stopped her mid-step. Her posture stiffened, breath caught in her chest.
Slowly, her head turned, her gaze cutting to me. A frown pulled her brows together.
“What is she doing here?” Meredith demanded, voice sharp.
Wanda stepped forward, that infuriating sweetness dripping off her tone like poisoned honey. She lifted a hand, waving slightly.
“I’m your trainer for today,” she announced.
The muscles in Meredith’s jaw tightened, and her chest rose sharply as she sucked in air.
Then her eyes shot back to me, disbelief burning in them. “Tell me this is a joke, Draven.”
I shook my head once, slow and deliberate. “Unfortunately, it’s not,” I said. “Get ready.”
I watched the betrayal flood her eyes, like a dark shadow snuffing out a candle.
Anger rose first, but underneath it: hurt. Raw and ugly.
For a split second, I faltered. But I hardened my resolve.
Even so, as her stare cut through me—sharp, accusing—I felt the weight of what I was asking of her.
—
**~Meredith~**
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest, it almost hurt.
Of all people… Wanda.
Standing there, smirking like the cat who got the cream. And beside her, Draven. The very man I trusted to have my back.
I felt something sharp twist in my chest, a bitter heat rising to my face.
“You know quite well she hates me,” I spat, the words slipping out, my voice trembling with anger. “Not just some mild distaste, Draven. She hates me. We are enemies—and you brought her here to train me?”
He didn’t even flinch. His eyes, dark and unreadable, met mine. “She won’t kill you, Meredith,” he said quietly. “She’s only here to help you, only if you look at the situation the right way.”
My breath caught in my throat.
Help me? Was he really saying this?
A hollow laugh escaped my lips, but it sounded too close to a sob. “You sound ridiculous,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Just like this entire idea.”
Wanda didn’t bother to hide her satisfaction. Her smug little smirk cut deeper than any blade. And Draven… he just stood there.
“Is this because of yesterday?” I demanded, the words trembling on my tongue. “Because I was too focused on landing a hit and left myself vulnerable? Is that it?”
For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Just looked at me, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “It doesn’t matter.”
It felt like ice water poured over my head.
Doesn’t matter? The betrayal settled heavy in my chest, twisting, choking.
So that’s it.
He had rather throw me to the wolves— no —to Wanda, just to see if I could keep up.
I couldn’t stand there a second longer. The shame, the anger, the ache in my throat.
Without another word, I turned on my heel, every step feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds.
My hand curled into a fist at my side, and I took a single step away from them.
“Meredith,” Draven’s voice came, sharp as steel behind me. “If you walk away from this, you will break one of my rules.”
His tone turned cold. Unforgiving. “And then I will cease to be your trainer.”
I froze.
My breath caught in my lungs, like a punch to the ribs. It felt as if the ground beneath me had dropped away.
He meant it.