KADE
Something was wrong with Sera.
I noticed it the moment she walked into the training grounds that morning. Her posture was different, stiff, guarded. Her eyes didn't meet mine. She stood at attention like a soldier waiting for orders, not like the woman who'd argued with me yesterday about being sidelined.
"Morning," I said, studying her face.
"Good morning," she replied. Her voice was flat, emotionless.
Not 'good morning, Kade' with that slight edge of sarcasm she'd developed, not even a greeting with personality. Just two words delivered like a report.
I frowned. "You slept okay?"
"Yes, sir."
Sir?
"You don't need to call me that," I said.
"Understood." She kept staring at a point past my shoulder, her face blank.
This was wrong, this wasn't Sera. The woman I'd been training for days now pushed back, questioned, challenged. She had fire even when she was scared or frustrated, that fire never went out.
This version standing in front of me looked like someone who's completely out of it.
"Are you ready to train?" I asked carefully.
"Yes, sir." There it was again, that formal, distant 'sir' that felt like a wall between us.
I ran her through warm ups, watching for any sign of the real Sera, nothing. She followed every instruction perfectly, mechanically with no complaints about the exercises being too hard, no muttered curses when she struggled, no determination burning in her eyes.
She was going through the training like a puppet.
"Let's work on combat," I said, moving into the sparring circle. "Remember what I taught you about reading your opponent's stance."
"Yes, sir."
I attacked, pulling my punches, giving her openings. She defended adequately but without the improving instinct she'd been showing. When I pinned her, she didn't fight creatively to escape like before, she just tapped out.
"Again," I said.
We went three more rounds, each one felt more wrong than the last. She was competent but distant, skilled but empty.
Finally, I stepped back. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing, I'm training." Her voice was still that awful flat tone.
"You're going through your emotions," I corrected. "Where's your head?"
"Focused on training, sir."
"Stop calling me that," I snapped, frustration boiling through. "And stop acting like a damn robot, what happened?"
"Nothing happened." She finally met my eyes, and what I saw there made my chest tighten. No anger, no frustration, no spark, just cold distance. "I'm doing what you asked, training to control my power, learning to fight, being useful."
The word 'useful' hit me wrong, but I couldn't figure out why.
"Take five," I said, needing space to think.
She nodded once and walked to the water station, her movements precise and controlled. Too controlled.
"Having trouble with your pet project?"
I tensed. Cassandra leaned against a nearby post, arms crossed, watching with that knowing smile I'd once found charming and now just found irritating.
"She's not a project," I said.
"Could've fooled me." Cassandra pushed off the post, moving closer. "She's certainly acting like an obedient little weapon now, very well trained."
I shot her a warning look, "What do you want, Cassandra?"
"Just observing." She glanced at Sera, who was drinking water with her back to us. "She's different from yesterday, more... compliant. Did you finally break that Omega spirit?"
"I'm not trying to break anything," I said coldly. "And if you're just here to make useless comments, you can leave."
Cassandra raised her hands in mock surrender. "Touchy. I'm just saying, she's finally acting like what she is, a tool you're sharpening for your revenge against the Council."
She walked away, but her words lingered like poison.
Was that how Sera saw herself now? As a tool?
I looked back at her. She was staring at the ground, her shoulders curved inward like she was trying to make herself smaller, like she was trying to disappear.
Like the invisible Omega she'd been before her power awakened.
My wolf growled in my chest, disturbed by the change in her. We'd both gotten used to her fire, her defiance, her growing confidence. This hollow version felt wrong.
"Back to training," I called.
She returned immediately, taking her position without a word.
I pushed her harder this time, trying to provoke a reaction, anything. I made her run obstacle courses until she was gasping, made her practice combat forms until sweat soaked through her shirt, corrected her stance more harshly than necessary.
She took it all without complaint, without emotion. Like a machine executing commands.
It was driving me insane.
"Why aren't you fighting back?" I finally demanded after pinning her for the tenth time.
"You're the teacher, I'm the student." She tapped out, her voice steady despite her heavy breathing. "I follow your instructions."
"You used to argue with me."
"That was disrespectful, I apologize."
"I don't want an apology," I growled. "I want you to actually be present during training."
"I am present." Still that flat, empty tone.
I pulled her to her feet, maybe rougher than I should have. "No, you're not, you're hiding. Where's the woman who destroyed a tree? Who looked the Council threat in the eye and decided to fight back? Where's…."
"Where's the useful weapon you were training?" she interrupted, and for the first time all day, there was emotion in her voice, Bitterness. "She's right here, following orders like she's supposed to."
The words struck like a physical blow.
"Is that what you think?" I asked quietly. "That you're just a weapon to me?"
She pulled away from my grip. "Isn't that what I am? You're training me to fight the Council, to use my power for your revenge. That's why you brought me here, why you're keeping me safe, why any of this matters." Her eyes finally met mine fully, and the pain I saw there made something twist in my chest. "I'm useful, that's all that matters."
"Sera.."
"It's fine," she cut me off. "I understand now. No expectations, no confusion, just training and fighting and being what you need me to be." She straightened her shoulders, "I'm ready to continue."
I stared at her, my mind racing. How did we get here? Yesterday she'd been angry about Thorne, yes, but she'd been present, real, fierce. Today she was this hollow shell acting like her only value was her power.
Someone had gotten to her. Said something. Made her believe..
Cassandra's words echoed back, "Your pet project... obedient little weapon... a tool you're sharpening."
My hands clenched into fists. Had Cassandra done this? Poisoned Sera against me? Against herself?
"We're done for today," I said, my voice rougher than intended.
"But we've only been training for two hours."
"I said we're done." I turned away before I say something I'd regret. "Go rest, we'll continue tomorrow."
I felt her hesitate behind me, then heard her footsteps retreating toward the house. I stood alone in the training ground, anger and confusion warring in my chest.
Marcus appeared from wherever he'd been watching. "That was painful to witness."
"Not now," I warned.
"She thinks you're using her," he continued anyway, because Marcus had never been good at taking warnings. "Someone convinced her she's just a weapon to you."
"I know that," I snapped. "The question is how do I fix it?"
"Do you want to fix it?"
I shot him a sharp look. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Marcus shrugged. "Maybe it's easier this way. She follows orders, doesn't question, doesn't complicate things. Isn't that what you wanted when you brought her here? A powerful ally who'd help you destroy the Council?"
He was right. That was exactly what I'd wanted.
So why did the thought of Sera staying this hollow, obedient version make my wolf want to tear something apart?
"She's more than that," I said quietly.
"I know," Marcus replied. "Question is, does she?"
He left me alone with that thought.
I looked toward the main house where Sera had disappeared. Through the window, I could see her silhouette. Even from here, she looked small, defeated.
That wasn't the woman who stood in this training ground days ago and made me take a knee with her power. She wasn't the girl who'd argued with me, challenged me, slowly started to trust me despite every reason not to.
This was someone who'd been hurt badly. And I hadn't even noticed it happening.
Cassandra walked past on her way to the barracks, shooting me a smile that suddenly looked far less innocent.
What had she said to Sera? What poison had she dripped into her ear to make her retreat so completely?
And more importantly, how do I reach Sera now when she'd built walls so high even her power felt distant?
I'd faced Council killers, led armies of rogues, survived exile and accusations of murder.
But figuring out how to reach one broken Omega who thought she was nothing more than a weapon?
That might be the hardest fight I'd ever faced.