The Pain of Growth

The muscles in my arms burned. My hands, slick with sweat, trembled as I lifted the axe again, the wooden handle rough against my raw palms.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to ignore the exhaustion, the ache in my shoulders, the sting in my fingers.

I swung.

Crack.

The log split cleanly this time, the two halves falling to the ground with a satisfying thud.

I exhaled sharply, my chest rising and falling, my heartbeat hammering in my ears.

Behind me, Caius leaned against the wooden post, arms crossed, his silver eyes sharp in the dim firelight.

“Better,” he murmured.

I didn’t reply. I didn’t have the energy to.

It had been hours.

Hours of chopping wood, lifting, carrying, pushing my body past its limits.

I had thought when Caius said he would train me, it would mean fighting techniques, strategy—something useful.

Instead, he had thrown me into relentless, grueling physical labor.

And I hated him for it.

But I hated myself more—for how weak I was, for how my body was shaking, for how I wanted to drop to my knees and beg for rest.

I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, straightening.

Caius was still watching me. Studying me.

I scowled at him. “Are you just going to stand there all night?”

He smirked. “I’m enjoying the view.”

I rolled my eyes. “Glad my suffering is entertaining.”

“You’ll thank me for it later.”

Doubt curled in my chest, but I didn’t let it show.

Instead, I tightened my grip on the axe. “What’s next?”

Caius pushed off the post and walked toward me. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost lazy—but I wasn’t fooled. Everything about him was controlled, calculated.

He stopped just a few inches away, looking down at me. His height, his presence, his sheer confidence was suffocating.

He reached out.

I stiffened but didn’t move as he grabbed my wrist, turning my hand palm up.

My skin was raw, blisters forming where the axe handle had rubbed against it.

Caius’s thumb brushed over one, pressing lightly.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

He smirked. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

I jerked my hand away, scowling. “I can handle it.”

His gaze flickered with something unreadable. “We’ll see.”

I hated the way he said it. Like he was testing me. Like he was waiting for me to break.

I clenched my fists. “What now?”

Caius tilted his head toward the forest. “We run.”

I frowned. “Run where?”

His lips curled. “Until you collapse.”

I stared at him. “You’re joking.”

He didn’t answer.

Of course, he wasn’t joking.

I groaned, wiping my hands on my pants. My body already felt like it had been through hell, but I wasn’t about to quit now.

I pushed past him, stepping into the darkened treeline. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Caius chuckled behind me, and then—

He was gone.

---

The Hunt Begins

The forest was alive at night.

The wind howled through the trees, the leaves rustling like whispered warnings. Shadows stretched long across the ground, swallowing everything in darkness.

I ran.

My muscles screamed in protest, my lungs burning as my feet pounded against the earth.

I could hear him—Caius—moving effortlessly through the trees, always just ahead, just out of reach.

The bastard was playing with me.

I gritted my teeth and pushed harder, my legs aching as I forced myself forward.

I wouldn’t lose.

I couldn’t lose.

Not when I had nothing left but this.

Not when failure meant proving him right—that I was weak, that I wouldn’t survive on my own.

Branches whipped against my arms, my skin stinging, but I didn’t slow down.

Caius’s voice drifted through the darkness. “Not bad.”

I nearly growled. “Stop talking and run.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I am.”

Then, suddenly—silence.

I faltered, my heart pounding.

Where was he?

I slowed, my breath heavy in the night air. I turned my head, scanning the trees, my instincts screaming at me to move, to run—

And then—

Something slammed into me from behind.

I hit the ground hard, my back scraping against the rough earth, the weight of a body pinning me down.

I gasped, struggling, but strong hands gripped my wrists, pinning them above my head.

Caius.

His silver eyes glowed in the darkness, his face inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“You lose,” he murmured.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, my pulse thundering in my ears.

I swallowed hard, glaring up at him. “You cheated.”

His lips twitched. “Did I?”

I bucked against him, trying to free myself, but he didn’t budge. He was too strong.

Panic flickered in my chest—not because I was afraid of him, but because of what it meant.

I was still weak.

I wasn’t ready.

Caius must have seen it in my expression because his grip on my wrists tightened just slightly.

“You’re fast,” he said. “But not fast enough.”

I clenched my jaw, my body tense beneath him. “Then train me.”

His gaze darkened.

I wasn’t sure why I said it like that—like a demand, not a request.

But I meant it.

Caius studied me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he leaned back, releasing my wrists and standing.

I pushed myself up, refusing to acknowledge how unsteady I felt.

Caius smirked. “Tomorrow.”

I wiped the sweat from my brow, exhaling sharply. “What about tonight?”

His smirk widened. “Tonight, you rest.”

I scowled. “I don’t need—”

He moved fast, closing the distance between us in a blink.

Before I could react, his fingers curled around my throat—not squeezing, not hurting, just holding.

I froze.

His silver eyes locked onto mine. “You will listen to me, Lyra.”

A shiver ran through me.

He let go just as quickly as he had grabbed me, stepping back.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, his voice softer. “Go inside.”

For the first time since I had met him, he didn’t sound like he was teasing me.

He sounded serious.

I hesitated but nodded.

Caius watched as I turned and made my way back to the cabin.

And even as I crawled into bed, my body aching, my breath still uneven…

I could still feel the ghost of his hand around my throat.

And I didn’t know why that scared me more than anything else.

But one thing was clear.

I had to step up my game.