Chapter 113
The spark haunted me. It was such a small thing—just a brush of hands—but the shock it sent through me lingered, refusing to let me forget. The last time I’d felt anything like that was when I met Ashton. The realization made my stomach churn.
It wasn’t possible.
Jake had a mate, and I’d had a mate. The universe didn’t just go around handing out second chances like party favors.
“Get a grip, Ayla,” I muttered to myself, pacing my room.
But the memory of Jake’s gray eyes, wide with confusion, kept replaying in my mind. I couldn’t make sense of it, and the more I thought about it, the more my head spun.
I flopped onto the bed, groaning. “Just let it go.”
And I decided to do exactly that. I would focus on the twins, settle into this new life, and leave the spark in the past where it belonged.
The next morning, I resolved to shake off the weirdness by doing something productive. The pack grounds were alive with activity as I stepped outside, the crisp air invigorating me. I’d seen the warriors training from a distance and decided it was time to get involved.
After all, I was Luna now. I couldn’t very well sit around doing nothing.
The training grounds were a whirlwind of movement—wolves sparring, weights clanging, and shouts of encouragement ringing through the air. I spotted Sophie nearby and waved, but my attention was quickly stolen by the man barking orders at a group of trainees.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had the kind of confident grin that could disarm anyone. His sandy brown hair fell into his eyes as he clapped a trainee on the back, his laughter carrying across the field.
“Let me guess,” I said as I approached. “You’re the one in charge here?”
He turned, his piercing green eyes landing on me, and his grin widened. “Guilty as charged. Adam, head trainer. And you must be Luna Ayla.”
I tried not to blush at the way he said my name, like it was a secret he was letting me in on.
“That’s me,” I said, crossing my arms. “Think you can teach me a thing or two?”
Adam raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down in an obviously exaggerated manner. “Hmm. I don’t know. Do you think you can keep up?”
“Oh, I think I can handle it,” I shot back, trying to sound confident.
“Alright, Luna,” he said, smirking. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Adam’s idea of “seeing what I’ve got” turned out to be an introduction to combat techniques. He demonstrated the moves first—swift and fluid, like he’d been born to fight.
“Now you try,” he said, stepping back and gesturing for me to take his place.
I mirrored his stance, or at least I tried to.
“Close,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “But not quite.”
Before I could protest, he stepped behind me, his hands gently adjusting my arms and shoulders.
“Here,” he murmured, leaning close. “Your balance is off. Keep your weight centered.”
I tensed under his touch, feeling both self-conscious and slightly flustered. “I’m trying!”
He chuckled, stepping back. “You’re doing fine. Relax. Fighting isn’t just about strength—it’s about flow. Move like water, Ayla.”
I turned to give him a look. “Water?”
“Water,” he repeated, nodding sagely. “Unpredictable. Unstoppable. And, in your case, occasionally spilling all over the place.”
I gasped, swatting at him as he laughed. “Rude!”
“But accurate,” he teased, dodging my half-hearted swing.
Despite his jokes, Adam was a patient teacher, guiding me through each move until I started to feel a little more confident. And when I finally landed a solid strike on the training dummy, he threw his hands in the air like I’d just won a championship.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” he cheered.
I couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine warmth spreading through me.
The lighthearted atmosphere was short-lived, though, as Fatima’s voice cut through the air.
“Interesting to see you’re finding time for play,” she said, her tone icy.
Adam turned, his grin unwavering. “Fatima! Always a pleasure.”
She didn’t seem to share the sentiment, her sharp gaze fixed on me. “Don’t you have more important things to do, Luna?”
I stiffened, her words hitting a nerve. But before I could respond, Adam stepped in smoothly.
“She’s training, Fatima,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “And if you ask me, she’s doing a damn good job.”
Fatima’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t press the issue. With a final glare in my direction, she turned and stalked off.
I exhaled, feeling the tension leave my shoulders. “Thanks for that,” I said, glancing at Adam.
He shrugged, his grin returning. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for the underdog.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling.
As we wrapped up the session, Adam handed me a water bottle, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Same time tomorrow?” he asked, his tone playful.
“Maybe,” I said, pretending to be nonchalant.
He leaned closer, his grin turning downright wicked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Before I could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving me both flustered and oddly looking forward to our next session.
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Later that evening, as I sat with the twins in the nursery, I found myself replaying the day’s events. For the first time in a while, I felt a little lighter, like I was finally finding my footing.
Adam’s easy humor and unwavering support had been a welcome distraction from the tangled mess of emotions I’d been carrying.
But as I tucked Lily into her crib and Logan clutched my finger with his tiny hand, I couldn’t help but wonder if the distraction was enough.
Because no matter how much I tried to push it aside, the spark with Jake still lingered in the back of my mind, refusing to be ignored.
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