Chapter 9: Learning to Fall
1607 Words
Maya's POV:
"Absolutely not."
I folded my arms across my chest, glaring at Marie like she'd just suggested I jump off a cliff. In a way, she had—only this cliff had leather straps, silver plates, and enough buckles to make a dominatrix blush.
"It's perfectly safe, dear," Marie said with her usual maddening calm, tightening a strap on the contraption she held. "Power-dampening harnesses are standard training gear for young Lunas."
"That thing looks like it belongs in a dungeon," I said, stepping back instinctively. "And not the fun kind."
Kai, who had been quietly sipping coffee on a nearby log, choked. "Fun kind?"
My face went up in flames. "I didn’t— That’s not— Just shut up."
His grin stretched wide and wicked. “I love it when you blush.”
I shot him a look, but even I couldn't help the ghost of a smile tugging at my lips.
“Focus,” Marie interrupted, stern but not unkind. Her eyes sparkled like she found us vaguely amusing. “Maya, the harness will help regulate your energy. Without it, you could level half this mountain by accident. This is about control.”
I glanced at the harness again, then the small crowd that had gathered to watch. Danny, Marcus, Jessie… all of them watching with thinly veiled excitement, like they were about to see a show.
“No pressure or anything,” I muttered under my breath.
"You've got this!" Sarah called out from behind the group. She looked a thousand times better—those ugly claw marks from the other night had healed completely. “You’re way stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
Her faith caught me off guard. After everything with Elena, Sarah had every right to keep her distance. But she hadn’t. Maybe she really had been trying to help me all along.
"Fine," I said, squaring my shoulders. "Strap me in."
The harness was heavier than it looked. Thick leather crisscrossed my chest and back, and cold silver plates pressed into my skin at key points. As Marie buckled me in, I felt the shift immediately—like someone had turned down the volume on my own body. The constant hum of power beneath my skin dulled to a whisper, and the usual glow around my fingertips flickered uncertainly.
"I feel… smaller," I said quietly.
"Good. You’re not supposed to feel powerful in this. You’re supposed to learn to reach deeper.” Marie stepped back and gestured to a row of clay pots balanced on tree stumps. “Start with the first one. No touching, no tricks—just your energy.”
I exhaled and focused, reaching for the small flicker of power I could still access. I imagined the pot shattering.
Nothing.
Marie didn’t flinch. “Again. Focus on your center. Let the energy rise up, not surge out.”
I tried again. This time, a flicker of silver sparked from my fingertips and fizzled out on the pot with a soft ping.
I swore under my breath.
“Language,” Marie chided out of habit, then smiled. “But yes. Frustration is part of it. You’ve relied on brute force until now. This is about precision.”
“How long does this take for most people?”
“Months,” she said honestly. “But you’re not most people.”
What followed was an hour of pure frustration. I failed. Again. And again. And again.
The peanut gallery didn’t help.
“Try aiming lower!” Danny yelled.
“Put your hips into it!” Marcus chimed in.
“Maybe get angry,” Jessie added. “You do great when you’re pissed off.”
“Oh, I’m pissed,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes at the stubborn, uncracked pot.
Kai appeared beside me, holding a bottle of water. “Break time.”
“I haven’t broken anything.”
“Except your own spirit,” he said, placing the cool bottle into my hands. “Come on, even werewolves need breaks. And watching you focus is seriously testing my self-control.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
“You bite your lip when you concentrate,” he said, voice low. “And you make these little frustrated sounds that are… distracting.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “Kai.”
“What? I’m just being honest.”
“There are people here!”
“And every one of them knows exactly how mate bonds work.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Although if you'd prefer to continue this conversation somewhere private...”
My brain short-circuited for a second.
Thankfully—or not—Marie cleared her throat loudly. “If we’re done flirting, perhaps we can get back to training?”
“Right, yes. Pots. Focus.” I stepped away from Kai and turned toward the stumps again, trying not to combust with secondhand embarrassment.
This time, instead of forcing the energy, I quieted my mind. I didn’t push—I listened. The power was still there, waiting. I coaxed it gently.
When I opened my eyes and released it, the pot exploded in a perfect burst of clay and light.
Cheers erupted around the clearing.
“You did it!” Sarah yelled.
“Finesse over force,” Marie said, proud. “Remember that.”
It was one pot. But it felt like climbing Everest.
The next pot shattered after three tries. The third only took two. By the time we broke for lunch, I’d destroyed every one of them—and something inside me had shifted.
I was learning. Slowly, but surely.
“You’re a fast learner,” Sarah said as we walked back toward the pack house. “I’ve never seen anyone pick it up that fast.”
“Movies lied to me,” I said, still panting a little. “I thought magical powers just… worked.”
“They don’t show the blood, sweat, and clay shards.”
I laughed. “So how did you end up with the pack?”
“Joined six months ago,” she said. “I was in a rough place. Someone mentioned a ‘support group’ in Pine Ridge. Turns out it was a literal wolf pack.”
“Rough place?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Toxic relationship. Took me years to realize what I thought was love was actually emotional manipulation.”
I looked at her, surprised by how raw and real she sounded. “I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
“It was. But it taught me how to spot manipulation from a mile away.” She glanced sideways at me. “Like what Elena pulled last night? Classic. Manufacture a crisis, swoop in as the savior.”
“Yeah… I figured that out too late.”
“But you figured it out. Some people never do.”
Her voice carried the weight of someone who had lived through worse.
As we stepped into the pack house, a low hum of conversation buzzed from the kitchen. Kai, Danny, and a few others were gathered around a laptop.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Kai looked up, jaw tight. “News report. Third attack this week.”
The screen showed a crime scene—police tape, claw marks on walls, shattered windows. But what stopped me cold were the trees in the background. Twisted. Blackened.
“Shadow Wraiths,” I whispered.
“They’re not staying in remote areas anymore,” Kai said. “They’re moving into towns. Suburbs.”
My stomach sank. “Why?”
Kai’s expression turned grim. “They’re looking for something. Or someone.”
The chill in the room spread like frost.
“They’re looking for me,” I said quietly.
Danny shook his head. “We don’t know that.”
But he didn’t sound convinced. None of them did.
“If innocent people are getting hurt because of me—”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Kai said, firm and final.
“But—”
“No. We protect each other. You don’t run. You train. You fight. With us.”
I looked around the room at the people who’d become my strange, makeshift family. They weren’t perfect, but they were real. And they weren’t giving up on me.
“Okay,” I said. “Then I need to get stronger. Now.”
“We’ll double your training,” Marie said. “No more clay pots. Time to prepare for war.”
As if on cue, Kai’s phone buzzed. He looked at the screen, and his face darkened.
“Elena,” he said.
My gut twisted. “Don’t answer.”
But he already had. “What do you want, Elena?”
Her voice oozed through the speaker. “Kai, darling. I have information. About the Shadow Council. About Maya.”
“We’re listening.”
“Not over the phone. Meet me. Neutral ground—old stone bridge on Highway 7. One hour.”
Click.
“She hung up,” Kai said.
“It’s a trap,” Danny muttered.
“Probably,” Kai said. “But if she knows something…”
“We have to go,” I finished. “Even if it means dealing with her again.”
“We go armed, with backup. No risks.”
“And I’m coming,” I added. “If it’s about me, I need to hear it.”
Kai hesitated, then nodded. “You stay close.”
“Deal.”
As everyone rushed to gear up, I couldn’t shake the feeling tightening in my chest.
Something was coming.
And this time, I wasn’t sure we were ready for it.
- Writer
