Heart of Ice

Chapter Forty-Seven

Song: Do That To Me One More Time- Captain & Tannille

It only takes a few days for Hunter's wounds to heal completely, but he's still left with some nasty scars. I tend to them every night, cleaning his wounds, changing his bandages— except for his back, which Brett has taken over— staying with him through the night, and we fall into a comfortable routine. Even though we don't talk much, for once, there's no tension. I know he needs to recoup after the hell he went through, so I don't push. It's enough that I can be as close to him as I am.

I'd be lying if I said it didn't leave me hopeful, though.

Outside of our nights together, the changes Hunter mentioned are in full swing. I couldn't see it with him yet, but dad enforced even stricter security, if that was even possible. He's worried that Demetrius is going to launch an attack at any second, and he refuses to let us be unprepared. That also means a hell of a lot more training. We do individual training, group training, sparring, and power training, from dawn to dusk. Dad is determined to build up my powers so I can defend myself if the worst case scenarios happen. I train with every single member of the house for hours on end. By the time I finish at the end of each day, I'm near-dead as I drag myself up the stairs to get a steaming hot shower before returning to Hunter's room. His worried eyes watch my every move as I move like a slug in his room, but he never says anything, even though I know he wants to. What can we do, though? The stakes are higher than they ever have been. The end is nearing every day, and all of us silently move through the house, exchanging glances as this unsettling truth hovers over us like an ominous storm cloud that's going to release its torrents at any given second. We could very easily lose some of our own. After everything that's happened, I don't think Demetrius will hold back. I'm no longer his only target, especially since I'm not the one who killed Blair. I'm terrified of that fact.

Since Hunter is healed, it means he can train me again. As much as I love my dad and the rest of the pack, I would be lying if I said I'm not entirely giddy as I get ready for training on that fourth day after the ball. I hadn't realized how much I missed Hunter's training until I only had everyone else's. When I enter the gym, Hunter's sitting in the middle of the floor, stretching, and I can tell from the tightness of his lips that he's still struggling. I sit down beside him, mimicking his stretches.

"Are you sure you're okay to do this?" I ask, peering at him from under my outstretched arm.

"Yeah," He grunts. "I'm just stiff from laying down the past few days."

"I can go get dad if it's too much--"

"No. I can do it. Just... take it easy on me in the sparring today."

I playfully smirk. "Hell no. I'm gonna rock your shit."

He rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. "There's my girl."

That goes straight to my head. He hasn't called me his girl in... I can't even say how long. Hearing it from his lips though makes me feel like that's the only thing I want to be called for the rest of my life. I want to hear those words out of his mouth only for the rest of my life. My heart palpitates wildly and I tuck my chin into my chest to hide my flustered face. We finish stretching, and then Hunter meets me at the tracks. I run my usual laps, and once those are finished, we walk to the sparring mat. Hunter has me practice gathering my energy and then holding it on targets, and surprisingly, I'm able to hold it for much longer than before. Ever since the night of the ball, it's like all of my powers suddenly kicked back into gear, and I'm feeling stronger than ever. Still, I can't ignore the worry in the back of my mind that questions if it's going to be enough.

"Let's do some sparring now," Hunter says, placing protective gear on his hands as he motions for me to get into place, but I blow out a breath, resting my hands on my hips. It isn't that I'm not ready to spare with him-- even though I'm worried about accidentally hurting him in the process-- but I'm also preoccupied with thoughts of him. Thoughts of the ball. It's been eating at me since that night, but he needed to rest and heal. Besides, I was already feeling guilty enough for being the reason he was put in that situation. The least I could do was not bombard him with my thousand and one thoughts and questions.