Read From Ashes to Alpha :: cruel training(1/2)

The air was thick with the scent of rust and oil as I stood at the entrance of the abandoned factory. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in the stillness of the night. I took a deep breath, the metallic tang filling my lungs, and stepped inside.

The dim light from a single, flickering bulb cast long shadows across the room. In the center stood Amelia, her silhouette sharp and unyielding. Her cold, piercing eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I felt an icy chill run down my spine.

"James," she said, her voice as cold as the steel surrounding us. "You have three days to master 'Lunar Shadow Perception.' Don't bargain."

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on me.

Lunar Shadow Perception—an advanced werewolf skill that relied on heightened senses to predict an enemy's moves. For a young wolf like me, it seemed impossible.

But I couldn't back down. Not now. Not ever.

"I'll do it," I said, my voice steady despite the fear coiling in my gut. "I'll master it."

Amelia's lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "We'll see," she replied, her tone as sharp as a blade. "Begin."

The training was relentless. Amelia moved with a fluid grace, her attacks precise and unyielding. Each time I tried to anticipate her moves, I was met with a sharp blow or a painful twist that left me gasping for air.

"Focus, James," she snapped, her voice cutting through the haze of my exhaustion. "Use your senses. Feel the air, the vibrations. Let the moon guide you."

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe deeply. The scent of oil and rust was overwhelming, but beneath it, I could detect the faintest hint of Amelia's presence—a mix of wildness and control that was uniquely hers.

I listened, my ears straining to catch the slightest sound. There—a faint rustle of fabric, the subtle shift of weight. My body moved almost instinctively, dodging her next strike by a hair's breadth.

"Better," Amelia acknowledged, her tone still cold but with a hint of approval. "But you're still too slow. Again."

We continued, the hours blending into a blur of pain and determination. My muscles ached, my senses were overloaded, but I refused to give up. I could feel the moon's energy coursing through me, a silent ally in this grueling trial.

As the night wore on, I began to notice subtle changes in Amelia's movements. The way her breath hitched just before she lunged, the slight tensing of her muscles that signaled an attack.

I started to anticipate her moves, my body reacting faster each time.

"You're learning," she said, her voice is softer now, almost... impressed. "But don't get complacent. The real test is yet to come."

I nodded, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. "I won't stop," I promised, my voice raw but determined. "I'll master this. For me. For us."

Amelia's eyes softened for a fleeting moment before she turned away. "Rest," she said, her tone once again cold and distant. "We continue at dawn."

As I collapsed onto the cold, hard floor, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment. The road ahead was still long and fraught with challenges, but I knew I was one step closer to becoming the wolf I was meant to be.

And as I drifted into an uneasy sleep, the faint whisper of the moon's song filled my dreams, a promise of power and destiny yet to be fulfilled.

The air was thick with the metallic tang of rust and the sharp bite of oil as I stood at the entrance of the abandoned factory.

The next day, when I arrived at the abandoned factory. Amelia was already there, her silhouette stark against the dim light. She stood in the center of the training ground, her posture as unyielding as the steel beams that surrounded us.

I approached cautiously, my footsteps muffled by the layer of dust that coated the floor. Bowing my head slightly, I murmured, "I'm ready."

"We continue." Amelia's voice is still as indifferent as ever.

Before I could respond, a rush of air signaled her movement. I barely had time to dodge as her hand swiped past me, the force of it stirring the dust around us.

"Again," she commanded, her tone unyielding.

I clenched my fists, focusing harder. This time, I caught the subtle shift in the air before she moved, sidestepping just in time.

"Better," she acknowledged, though there was no warmth in her voice. "But you're still too slow."

The hours blurred together as we trained, each moment pushing me closer to my limits. My muscles ached, and my senses were on overdrive, but I couldn't stop. Not yet.

Finally, I felt that my physical strength had reached its limit. Amelia called a halt. "Rest," she said simply, before disappearing into the shadows.

I collapsed against a rusted machine, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The factory was silent once more, but I could still feel her presence, lingering like a ghost. I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over me, but my mind was already racing ahead, planning for the next session.

“Ready?” her beautiful but heart-palpitating voice rang out once again.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Before I could blink, the whip lashed out with a sharp *crack*. I threw myself to the side, but the tip grazed my back, searing pain ripping through me like fire. I hit the ground with a grunt, the taste of blood in my mouth.

Amelia’s boots clicked against the concrete as she stepped closer, her expression unreadable. “Pain is the only language a werewolf understands,” she said, her voice cutting through the haze of agony. “Remember this: every failure makes you weaker, but every wound makes you stronger.”

I gritted my teeth, pushing myself up on trembling arms. “Easy for you to say,” I muttered, my voice strained. “You’re not the one getting whipped.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she raised the whip again. “If you’re going to survive, you’ll need to learn to move faster than that.”

This time, I was ready—or so I thought. The whip came at me like a bolt of lightning, and I dodged, but it followed me, wrapping around my arm before I could escape.

I gasped as the silver burned into my skin, the pain so intense it felt like my bones were melting.

“Damn it!” I shouted, yanking my arm free. “Is this really necessary?”

Amelia didn’t answer. She just adjusted her stance, her eyes never leaving mine. “Again.”

I clenched my fists, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My back was on fire, my arm throbbed, and every movement felt like agony. But I couldn’t give up. Not now. Not ever.

I dodged the next strike, twisting my body to avoid the whip’s deadly arc. But she was faster, her movements fluid and precise. The whip caught me across the chest this time, and I stumbled backward, my vision blurring.

“You’re slow,” she said, her voice devoid of sympathy. “Too slow.”

“I’m trying!” I snapped, my voice cracking. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop thinking like a loser,” she said, stepping closer. “James！You’re a werewolf. Start acting like one.”

Her words hit me harder than the whip. I stared at her, my chest heaving, my body trembling with pain and exhaustion. She was right. I wasn’t human anymore. That life was gone. But if I wanted to survive this new one, I had to embrace it—no matter how much it hurt.

“Again,” I said, my voice low but steady.

Amelia’s lips twitched, almost like a smile, but it was gone in an instant. She raised the whip, and this time, I didn’t wait for her to strike.

I lunged forward, my instincts taking over. The whip missed me by inches, and I kept moving, my body a blur as I dodged and weaved.

Her eyes widened, just for a moment, and I saw a flicker of something—approval? Pride?—before her expression hardened again.

“Better,” she said, her voice softer now. “But you’re still not fast enough.”

I didn’t respond. I just kept moving, my focus razor-sharp. The whip came at me again and again, but I was learning, adapting.

My body was starting to understand what my mind couldn’t—that this pain wasn’t just punishment. It was training. It was survival.

By the time Amelia finally lowered the whip, I was drenched in sweat, my body a patchwork of bruises and burns. But I was still standing. And for the first time since this nightmare began, I felt like I might actually have a chance.

“That’s enough for today,” she said, her voice almost gentle. “You’re not completely hopeless.”

I managed a weak smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Thanks. I think.”

She walked over to me, her boots crunching on the broken glass. Up close, I could see the faint lines of exhaustion on her face, the subtle tension in her shoulders.

She wasn’t just training me—she was breaking me down, piece by piece, so she could build me back up.

“You’ll get stronger,” she said, her voice quiet now. “But it’s going to hurt. A lot.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. I knew she was right. This was just the beginning. And if I wanted to survive, I’d have to endure every second of it.

Amelia turned and walked away, her figure disappearing into the shadows of the factory. I stood there for a moment, my body aching, my mind racing.