Fangs Of Rebellion.

CHAPTER ONE.

SERAPHINA'S P.O.V.

  
    The rain fell in heavy droplets, drenching the courtyard. The wind blew past slowly and with it came a chill that whipped through my soaked clothing, causing a shiver to course through my body. I stood at the center of it all, my muscles tensed and my senses alert as I gripped my sword tightly, my knuckles turning white against the familiar weight of the weapon being held by my hands. The rain drops mixed with the beads of sweat that dotted my forehead as I squared my shoulders and readied myself for another round of combat practice. Across from me, Gerald stood with a similar weapon in his hands, and his face wearing an expression of concern.

   "Seraphina, ease up on your strength," he called out, his voice firm yet gentle. "Remember, it's not always about overpowering your opponent. Control and finesse are equally important."

    I nodded, acknowledging his guidance but we both knew that I was not going to follow his advice as the urge to release my pent-up frustration was strong.

   It had been months since Sebastian had betrayed me; months of torment and heartache and combat training had become my one sanctuary. It was not just an activity, but also a place where I could escape the ache of the rejection.

    Gerald understood. After all, he had seen the tears that I had shed in secret and he knew that our sparring sessions were not just about improving my physical skills but also about finding peace within each clashing of our swords and each flurry of punches.

   "Easy there, Sera," Gerald called out, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain. "You're pushing too hard."

   I gritted my teeth as the frustration simmered within me. Gerald was right, of course. I was exerting all my strength in an attempt to forget the painful rejection that I had suffered a long while ago. The pain and heartbreak that I had experienced after Sebastian had turned his back on me still felt fresh; like it had only been the previous day. I knew that I was pushing myself too hard but with every swing of my blade, I felt a brief relief from the agony that weighed heavily on my heart and mind.

    Gerald called out again, his voice laced with as much caution as it did compassion.

    "I know you are hurting, but pushing yourself too hard won't make the pain go away."

    My breath escaped my lips in ragged gasps and I could feel the frustration that I felt, deep within, etching across my face as I lowered my sword.

   "I have to, Gerald," I replied, my voice filled with anger and resolve. "I need to forget all of it. I need to forget the rejection and the pain."

    Gerald's gaze softened as understanding flickered in his eyes. He knew the pain that I felt. He had watched me suffer the consequences of the painful betrayal, and I knew that his inability to do anything to help me was killing him inside.

   "Believe me, Sera, I understand," he said, stepping closer to me. "But exerting your strength won't make it disappear. It will only drain you."

    My grip on the sword loosened slightly as I took in Gerald's words. I knew he was speaking from a place of deep worry and sympathy for me as he was my confidante and my protector. He was the one person that I could count on; the one who had always stood by my side.

    "He's not worth it, Sera," Gerald continued, his voice tinged with barely suppressed rage. "Sebastian might have been your fated mate but he was not worthy of you. If it weren't for my responsibilities to the throne and the kingdom, I would have done unimaginable things to him to avenge the humiliation and pain that he put you through."

   At that statement, his face became clouded with a mask of fury. His anger lasted a good minute before his facial muscles relaxed into a look of pity.