Ascension - Book Eight - Man x Man

Chapter 4 (new)

Days crept by in a slow march, turning into the passage of another week, and then another. 

The days of training felt more like a continuous strand of unrelenting torture. My body was forced to endure something that seemed to have no end. Verando had decided to take my assessment seriously, given my lineage, I was a breed that was used to performing under stress. 

While Verando was unwilling to harm me, and we were unsure of Alpha would do if he tried, he was absolutely willing to put me through trials that caused me immense mental fatigue. Every morning began much the same, we got up together and proceeded to run until my lungs felt like they would burst. 

Legardo would come in the mornings to sit with the boys, after Verando had prepared them breakfast, and would take me on a run that felt unsustainable. Never in my life had I run for sport, of course running for my life was one thing, but to toil after someone who was in incredible shape was beyond my comprehension. 

Never one to rise early, I was groggy and sore from the previous day as he crammed me into the tiny shorts and tight-fitting shirt. The lycra was stretched over my body, holding to every last scrap of my form. While I oggled my husband, I shrunk away from the exposure of my body to the world. It didn't do enough to cover my scars, nor did it hide the attempt at softness on my sides. 

My belly wasn't washboard as he was, my body was still softer and pliable. 

Verando reasoned that part of my fear was exposure, so I would have to get used to bearing my body. Stress would help me cope, so we ran. Until I was doubled over and vomiting on the sidewalk, we ran at a relentless pace. 

Every morning this got slightly easier, and yet the dread of the physical abuse kept me sour. I had never been privy to his fitness routine, he'd never unleashed himself upon me in this way, so to see what Tonic used to complain about gave me a whole new respect for the lycan. I had decided to accept that Verando lacked empathy and had no actual pain receptors, for he would be drenched with sweat and obviously aching through his back and leg, and yet still pushing us both to run for leagues longer than I was comfortable. 

Verando would run until he was physically unable, until he was limping on the cool down back home. 

I marveled at the abuse this man's body had taken, the arthritis of the right knee and destroyed calf muscle, and the obvious destruction across the middle of his back. Apparently, the impact was quite uncomfortable, yet he still came out and abused himself as often as he could get away. 

The man attempted to explain to me that running was very natural for our inner wolf, that it would help me learn to bond, and in some ways I supposed that could be true. Yet, as I vomited for the 5th day in a row, I slowly lost interest in that process. 

If nothing else, this put a damper on my libido. Returning to our home, drenched in sweat, smelling of masculinity, and usually streaked with vomit, all I wanted to do was shower and escape the torment. While the running made the wolf quiet, it did little for my mental health. I'd now found two things I was bad at. 

Being a lycan and running. 

Beyond the running, Verando decided that it would be best if Stefan took to training me in the art of failing at magic. 

Stefan was instructed to take me through everyday tasks where I would normally use magic, and then I would be forced to solve them as a human instead. These tasks could be as remedial as retrieving something from high up to deep cleaning the study, all things that made my aching body at the forefront of my mind. 

When I would get overwhelmed, Stefan would either give me tasks or Verando would insist on exercising me. 

With each passing day, I felt less and less connected to myself. I'd given it a fair shake, attempted to be as upbeat as possible, and pushed myself to try, yet it seemed this life was not meant for me.