Beyond and Wild

Chapter 13

Aderyn Pov

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the room as I stood by the window, letting the cool breeze wash over me. The air felt refreshing against the sheen of sweat on my forehead, a small comfort after the intense practice session I'd just completed. 

Panting lightly, I glanced down at the chaos I'd wrought a sandbag, now reduced to a tattered mess, lay scattered on the floor. It wasn't the first time I'd had to clean up after myself, but the sight never failed to remind me of why I needed a bigger space for my training.

I slipped off my gloves and glanced around, mentally preparing myself for the tedious cleanup. I meticulously gathered the remnants of the sandbag, folding the battered fabric and stuffing it into a bag. The mess was a testament to the frustration I felt with my confined practice area. I was hungry and tired, and the thought of cleaning up the sand only added to my growing annoyance.

After several minutes of scrubbing and tidying, the room looked presentable again. I could finally change out of my sweat-drenched workout clothes. A long, steamy shower provided some relief, and I wrapped my damp hair in a towel as I slipped into a black bathrobe. My intention was to get comfortable before tackling whatever came next, but my attention was soon diverted.

As I walked towards my walk-in closet, my gaze fell on an open drawer. I distinctly remembered closing it before my shower. Frowning, I approached it and found the contents—a jumble of medicines and other items—scattered across the drawer. This was not how I organized things. I was meticulous about keeping my space neat and orderly.

"Bell," I called out, sensing a presence behind me.

A startled scream followed, and I turned to see Bell standing there, clutching an ointment and clutching her chest with wide eyes.

"How did you know?" she stuttered, her surprise evident.

I shrugged, my eyes narrowing as I pointed at the drawer. "Clean it up."

Bell gave me a sheepish grin but nodded, walking over to the drawer to restore order. I shook my head slightly, bemused by her clumsiness, and headed into the walk-in closet. Selecting a simple outfit—a pair of black slacks and a baggy brown shirt—I let my hair air dry while I prepared to meet Dylan.

"Alpha wants to see you," Bell's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"What for?" I snapped, irritation creeping into my tone. The mere mention of Dylan's name was enough to put me on edge.

"I'm not sure," she shrugged, her casual demeanor not matching my growing frustration.

"No, wait! Tell me how you know he wants to see me if you didn't use a phone?" I asked, suspicion lacing my words.

Bell hesitated before responding, "He told me while I was on my way here. I just forgot to mention it."

Her answer did little to reassure me, but I wasn't in the mood to argue. "When does he want to see me?" I emphasized the words with an air quote, already dreading the interaction.

"After an hour," she said, and I flopped onto the bed beside her, feeling a surge of impatience.

With my hair completely dry, I braided it to the side and dressed in a pair of canvas shoes. We headed out of the room together, locking the door behind us. My mood was a mix of curiosity and exasperation as we made our way to Dylan's office.

The hallway was quiet, the only sound being the distant murmur of voices. When we reached Dylan's office, I noticed a few men, bulky and imposing, exiting the room. They cast fleeting glances our way before disappearing down the corridor. I glanced at Bell, who shrugged, indicating we should wait.

When the office was finally clear, Bell and I entered. Dylan was seated behind his wooden desk, looking every bit the imposing figure he was known to be.

"Sit," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. I complied, taking a seat across from him with Bell sitting beside me.

"Why did you want to see me?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm as I used air quotes around 'see me.' Bell stifled a laugh next to me, and I could sense Dylan's irritation.

"Miss Brookes—" Dylan began, but I interrupted, "Call me Aderyn. I've asked you before."

He shot me a look of annoyance but continued, "Miss Brookes, I have appointed a trainer for you."

At that, I couldn't help but burst into laughter. The absurdity of it all struck me as funny. "A trainer? To teach me how to fight?" I asked, my laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

Dylan remained stoic, his expression unchanging. Bell touched my arm, trying to stifle my laughter, but it was too late. I finally composed myself, apologizing with a quiet "Sorry."

"Yes, a trainer. It's necessary," Dylan continued, his tone serious. "We have many enemies, and I cannot always be there to protect you. You need to know how to defend yourself until help arrives."

The mention of enemies and protection did little to ease my frustration. "What if I refuse?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, Bell giving me a pleading look.

"Then I will have to assign security to you. You won't be allowed to leave your room without guards," Dylan said with a smirk, clearly anticipating my reluctance.

I sighed, "Fine, I'll train." I used air quotes again, partly for emphasis and partly out of stubbornness. Dylan's smirk widened, clearly satisfied.

"Only if you answer my questions first," I demanded, my tone turning serious. Dylan's expression shifted to one of surprise, though he quickly masked it.

"Answers?" he repeated, clearly taken aback.

"What kind of enemies are we talking about? Why do you have enemies? And what is the real reason for this training?" I pressed, my gaze unwavering.

Dylan's eyes flickered with tension, but he quickly recovered. "You'll find out soon enough," he replied vaguely, his evasive response only adding to my irritation.

I gave him a cold stare, and he averted his gaze to some papers on his desk. "Mr. Blackstone," I began, and he looked up with a raised eyebrow.

I hesitated, then said, "Nothing." I could see the curiosity in his eyes, but he didn't press further.

"Take her to the Gym room in thirty minutes," Dylan instructed Bell, who nodded in response.

"Miss Brookes, you might want to wear something appropriate for the training," Dylan added, his tone almost admonitory. I wanted to roll my eyes but restrained myself, nodding in agreement.

"That's all," Dylan said, dismissing us. Bell and I stood up, preparing to leave.

"Aderyn," Dylan called as I was about to exit. I turned, surprised by the tone of his voice. "Don't wear anything revealing or that shows too much skin," he warned.

Bell chuckled beside me, and I shot Dylan a half-smile before walking out of his office. The absurdity of it all made me wonder about the real intentions behind this training. Regardless, there was a silver lining. Training meant a bigger space for practice, and that was something I welcomed.

Back in my room, I sifted through my clothes, looking for something suitable. I wasn't inclined to wear revealing clothes, but I found a black camisole and a matching tank top that fit the bill. Pairing them with pink sports slacks and tying my hair back into pleats, I felt ready for whatever was coming. I took a moment to check myself in the mirror, nodding with satisfaction.

As I waited for Bell to take me to the Gym room, I reflected on the situation. My frustration with Dylan and the need for more space to practice had led me to this point. Despite my initial resistance, the prospect of training and the benefits it might bring made me more determined to embrace the challenge.

Bell arrived to escort me to the Gym, and together, we walked through the corridors. The excitement of exploring a new space and the prospect of improving my skills were beginning to outweigh my irritation. Maybe this training, despite its origin, would offer me more than just a chance to defend myself—it could be an opportunity for growth.

With a deep breath and a renewed sense of purpose, I followed Bell toward the Gym, ready to face whatever lay ahead.