Training the fox

Greg’s POV

The morning sun had barely risen when I left my chambers, the palace still cloaked in a soft haze of dawn.

As I stepped out into the corridor, I saw Anna waiting for me, leaning casually against the stone wall. Her eyes brightened when she saw me, though she tried to hide the small smile that tugged at her lips.

“Morning,” she said softly, falling in step beside me as we walked through the palace halls.

I nodded, glancing at her sideways. “Morning. You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “Too many thoughts running through my mind.”

We walked in silence for a while, the palace slowly coming to life around us. Servants bustled about, guards patrolled their posts, and the usual morning activities began to stir. But there was an undercurrent of unease—eyes followed us, whispers carried on the air.

Everyone was watching, speculating about why the prince was spending so much time with the fox girl. I could feel the weight of their stares, their silent judgments, but I didn’t care. Anna was by my side, and that was all that mattered to me.

When we stepped outside, the morning chill greeted us. We made our way toward the training grounds, a vast open space surrounded by high walls.

The sun was just beginning to break through the clouds, casting long shadows across the dusty field. I led her to the center, where the ground was well-trodden from years of sparring and combat drills.

“What’s the drill for the day?” She asked in excitement.

“Today, I’m going to train you,” I said, turning to face her. “You need to learn how to defend yourself.”

Anna blinked in surprise but quickly masked it with a determined nod. “I know some basics,” she said, adjusting her stance. “But I’m not exactly battle-tested.”

I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She had the spirit, the drive, but her skills were rough, unrefined. If she was going to survive in my world—our world—she needed to be stronger, faster, more cunning. There was no room for weakness, not when my brother was watching our every move.

“Show me what you’ve got,” I said, motioning for her to come at me.

She hesitated for a moment, then launched herself forward, throwing a punch aimed at my chest. I sidestepped easily, catching her wrist and spinning her around before she could react. She stumbled but quickly regained her balance, her eyes narrowing as she studied my movements. I could see her calculating, trying to figure out how to get past my defenses.

She came at me again, this time faster, throwing a series of quick jabs and kicks. I blocked each one effortlessly, my superior strength and speed making it almost too easy.

But I didn’t let up; I wanted to see how far she would push herself. I wanted her to understand that this wasn’t just a game—it was life or death.

“Too slow,” I said, catching her foot mid-kick and twisting it just enough to send her sprawling to the ground. “You need to anticipate your opponent’s moves, not just react to them.”

Anna scowled, picking herself up off the ground. “I’m trying,” she said, her voice edged with frustration.

“I know you are,” I replied, softening my tone. “But trying isn’t enough. You have to be better.”

We continued sparring, our movements growing faster and more fluid as we fell into a rhythm.

Anna’s form improved with each exchange; she was quick to learn, adjusting her technique based on my critiques.

She had a natural agility that made her a formidable opponent when she used it correctly, but her strength was lacking. Every time she tried to overpower me, I countered easily, using her momentum against her.

“You’re relying too much on brute force,” I told her after pinning her arm behind her back for the third time. “Speed and strategy are your real assets. Use them.”

Anna nodded, catching her breath. Sweat dripped down her brow, and her hair clung to her face, but there was a fire in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

She was determined to prove herself, not just to me but to everyone who doubted her. She came at me again, this time feinting left before sweeping my legs out from under me in a swift, unexpected move. I hit the ground but rolled back to my feet, grinning despite myself.

“Better,” I said, brushing the dirt from my clothes. “You’re learning.”

We sparred for hours, each session pushing Anna further than the last. I showed her how to read her opponent’s body language, how to predict attacks based on subtle shifts in stance.

We practiced grappling, takedowns, and joint locks until she could execute them smoothly without hesitation.

She was still rough around the edges, but she was improving rapidly. I could see her confidence growing with each successful move, and it made me proud in a way I hadn’t expected.

“Let’s try something different,” I said, gesturing for her to take a defensive stance. “I’m going to come at you with everything I’ve got. Your job is to hold your ground.”

Anna set her jaw, her muscles tensing as she braced herself. I attacked with a lot of strikes, testing her speed and reflexes. She blocked most of them, her movements quicker and more precise than before. When I switched tactics, using my wolf strength to drive her back, she adjusted, deflecting my blows with a combination of agility and clever positioning.

“Good,” I said, pushing her to the edge of her limits. “But don’t let up. Always be on the offensive, even when you’re defending.”

She nodded, absorbing my words as we continued to move. We were in sync now, our bodies responding instinctively to each other’s actions.

For a brief moment, it felt like we were more than just sparring partners—we were a team, working together in perfect harmony. It was exhilarating, a rush of adrenaline that made everything else fade away.

After another intense round, I stepped back, signaling the end of the session. Anna was breathing hard, her chest heaving, but there was a triumphant smile on her face. She had come a long way in just a few hours, and I could see the pride in her eyes.

“You did well,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow. “But don’t get cocky. You’ve got a long way to go.”

Anna laughed, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I smirked, crossing my arms. “It was. You’ve got potential, Anna. But remember, out there, it’s not just about skill—it’s about survival. You need to be ruthless, relentless. Never give your enemy a second chance.”

Anna and I stood in the training center, the intensity of our sparring session still lingering in the air. A comfortable silence settled between us as we caught our breath, the sounds of distant chatter and clanging swords filling the background.

I watched her, noting the slight tension in her shoulders and the way her eyes darted around, as though searching for something familiar.

Finally, she glanced up at me, her expression softening. “You know…we could always go back to the woods. Find that little cabin again, just like before.”

The suggestion hung between us, tempting and reckless. I remembered the peace we had found there, away from prying eyes and my brother’s constant scrutiny.

But that was before last night’s encounter with Cole, before his veiled threats and warnings echoed in my mind. I took a deep breath, running a hand through my hair as I considered her words.

“I wish it were that simple,” I said, my voice laced with frustration. “But it’s not. Not after what happened last night.”

Anna’s brows furrowed in concern. “What do you mean? What happened?”