Forsaken Luna

Chapter 8 - The first lesson.

Kaelen

The guards thought I was wasting time. That she was just another omega, and I’d be better off breaking her spirit until she bowed. They didn’t understand. Nyx wasn’t meant to bow. I leaned against the stone corridor, hearing the faint scrape of her chains as she shifted inside.

After she ate, I believed that she’d chosen survival over pride. That was the first step. I had no illusions. She would fight me every inch of the way. She’d snap, curse, bare her teeth. But that was fine. I’d take her anger over her silence. Anger meant she still cared. That the fire I saw in her was burning.

And I’d rather face wildfire than ashes.

Nyx

The first thing that hit me was the smell. Not stone or moss, but chlorine and dust. Kaelen led me through the mansion like I was some unwanted guest. Past glittering chandeliers and marble floors that had never known dirt, down a staircase I hadn’t noticed before.

My bare feet padded against cold tile as we descended into a place no servant was ever meant to see. The hall below was nothing like the polished halls above. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, harsh against my eyes.

Mirrors lined one wall, cracked in places. The faint hum of an air vent rattled somewhere above. The floor was scuffed wood, the kind that remembered every fall. Racks of weights stood against one side. On the other, sleek mats, punching bags, and training dummies. Like a gym designed for war.

It was everything I remember my father wanted for our pack but never got to have because of my grandfather and his traditional ways. I froze at the threshold.

“You brought me here to break me again,” I spat. Kaelen hadn’t said a single word since he fetched me from my cage. Kaelen turned slowly, his expression unreadable in the sterile glow. His black hair shining under the lights, his blue eyes catching every spark.

“No,” he said. “To teach you how not to break.”

“Do you think I haven’t learned that already? I’ve been broken and rebuilt more times than I can count. I don’t need your version of survival training.” I let out a laugh, sharp and bitter.

“You survived because you bent,” His jaw flexed, but he didn’t rise to my anger. “I’ll teach you to stand.”

“I’m not your soldier. I’m not your pack.” My fists curled at my sides, rattling the chains around my wrists.

“No,” he agreed. “You’re mine to train. For as long as I choose to risk it,” That word “mine” always burned, even when it wasn’t meant like Orion had said it. Orion’s “mine” had been possessive, cruel, filled with disgust. Kaelen’s was steadier, heavier. It was worse somehow because it felt like a vow.

“Get down.” Before I could argue, he pointed at the floor.

“What?” I frowned, wondering what the hell he was planning.

“Push-ups.” His tone was clipped, businesslike. Like he was ordering coffee instead of demanding my body collapse into the ground. I wanted to tell him to shove it, but pride clawed at me. If I refused, I’d look weak. So, I lowered myself onto the smooth wood, palms flat.

The first push-up burned. By the fifth, my arms shook so badly I thought they’d give out. By the tenth, I dropped, chest slamming into the floor, the air bursting from my lungs. I didn’t even feel the chains cutting into my skin anymore.

“Again.” Kaelen crouched down beside me, not close enough to touch but close enough to make my skin prickle.

“I can’t,” I gasped, face pressed onto the wood. I couldn’t even look him in the eye. I hated him, and I didn’t want him to see how broken I felt.

“You can,” he said simply. “That’s the point.” I gritted my teeth, pushed again. My arms trembled like reeds in the wind. Halfway up, I collapsed.

“Damn you,” I muttered, fighting back tears for a moment before they were replaced by fury.

“Good. Anger is better than defeat.” A low sound rumbled in his chest, almost a laugh. The hours blurred after that. Push-ups turned into planks. Planks into squats. He barked corrections while I gasped and cursed, my body screaming in protest.

Sweat plastered my raven hair against my cheeks. My pale arms shook like they’d snap in half. And still, he never softened. But he didn’t mock me either. When I fell, he waited. When I stayed down too long, he extended his hand.

Not dragging me up, just holding it out, letting me decide. Sometimes I took it. Sometimes I swatted it away. But always, I rose. By the time he shoved a weighted bar into my arms, I thought my bones might shatter. The thing felt heavier than my whole body.

“Hold it steady,” Kaelen ordered. My wrists wobbled violently. My breath came ragged, chest on fire.

“This is pointless,” I snapped. “I’ll never be strong enough. I’m not like them,” I shouted.

“You’re right,” he said. The words sliced through me. I felt my chest cave, the humiliation of every whispered “she doesn’t have a wolf” echoing in my ears.

“Then why bother?” I demanded.

“Because you’re not like them.” His eyes met mine, fierce and unflinching. “You’ve survived what would’ve killed them already. Now you’ll learn to use it.” The weight of his words sank deeper than the bar pressing against my trembling arms. I hated it. I hated how a part of me wanted to believe him.

“Again,” he commanded. So, I did. My body screamed. My pride screamed louder. By the time he finally let me collapse, I couldn’t feel my arms. My legs quivered uncontrollably. I lay sprawled on the mat, staring at the fluorescent lights until they blurred.

“Again tomorrow,” Kaelen said, not even out of breath.

“I hate you,” I whispered, my voice raw.

“Good,” he said. “Hate keeps you alive.” He left me there, sweaty and broken on the gym floor, like I was just another drill. Kaelen didn’t march me through the mansion’s polished corridors this time.

Instead, he led me back down into the basement wing, where the air stank faintly of rust and mold. My body was trembling from the drills, every muscle screaming as if my bones were splitting all over again.

When we reached the heavy iron-barred door, two guards stood waiting. They straightened at the sight of Kaelen, though their eyes darted curiously to me, as if they couldn’t quite believe I was still upright.

“Unlock it,” Kaelen ordered. His voice carried that quiet, dangerous authority that made men move without question. The key scraped into the lock. The door groaned open. Inside, the small cell looked exactly as it had when I’d left it that morning.

A rough cot, bucket in the corner, a single slit window high on the wall that let in a thin smear of moonlight. No illusions of comfort. No softness. Just stone and shadow. I stood there a moment, swaying on my feet.

My body wanted to collapse on the cot, but my pride forced me to keep standing. I looked at Kaelen, searching his face for something. An explanation, a reason, maybe even regret. But his expression was unreadable.

“Rest. Tomorrow, we continue.” He nodded once, sharply. Then he turned to the guards. “No one else come near her. If she needs something, you send word to me. Understood?” They nodded quickly.

Kaelen’s gaze flicked back to me one last time, holding mine just long enough for me to feel the weight of it, before he walked away, his boots echoing on the stone. The guards shut the cell door behind me with a heavy clang.

I sank onto the cot, dragging air into my lungs. My hands shook as I pressed them against my knees. My entire body was raw, aching, humiliated. But under the pain was something else. Something burning.

Outside, the guards lingered longer than usual. Their voices drifted through the bars, not as quiet as they thought.

“Did you see her?” one muttered. “She could barely crawl back here. What the hell is Kaelen trying to prove?”

“That an omega like her can stand? Please. She’s all skin and stubbornness. He’s wasting his breath.” The other snorted.

“Careful,” the first guard hissed. “You’ve seen him. He doesn’t let anyone touch her. That’s not nothing. He’s risking himself every time he bends the rules for her.” A pause. The scrape of metal against stone as one of them leaned on something.

“She’s broken,” the second guard said finally. “No wolf. No future. She’ll never survive training. Kaelen’s setting himself up for disappointment.”

“I don’t know…” The first guard said quietly. “When she was on her knees out there, she didn’t quit. She looked like she’d rather die than give in. You don’t see that in omegas.” Their footsteps retreated down the hall, leaving silence behind.

I lay back on the cot, staring up at the cracked ceiling. Their words burned through me, hotter than the bruises across my skin. “Broken. Ashes. Never survive.” But in the stillness, something stirred deep inside. A growl, low and feral, curling through my mind.

“We are waking. Keep fighting.” The voice shivered through me like a promise. I closed my eyes, clutching that ember tight. Let them think I was nothing. They didn’t understand. Ashes could still spark fire.