Charlotte's POV
I walked to the wardrobe, my feet dragging slightly, the ache in my knees reminding me of the day's toll. I took out a soft, silk nightie and slipped it on immediately. The moment the fabric brushed against my skin, I felt a small bit of comfort,though not enough to erase the tension that hung in the room. He was still there. Watching me.
He hadn't moved an inch. Just stood there, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed on me like I was some kind of puzzle he couldn't solve. I didn't mind the stare at first—at least,but there was a weight to his gaze that lingered and clung to me like a second skin.
I walked slowly over to the bed and laid down, sinking into the mattress, hoping it would swallow me whole and take away the irritation bubbling in my chest. He just ruined my mood, completely and unapologetically, and the worst part was,he didn't seem to care. Still leaning, staring. Still silent.
"I would appreciate if you leave my room," I said, my voice quiet but firm, slicing through the stillness of the room. But he didn't say a word. Not even a blink. Just kept watching me like he had every right to invade my space. I sat up abruptly, feeling my chest tighten in annoyance, and opened the drawer beside my bed. I reached for the small container of pain balm and began to apply it to my aching knee and sore ankle. The sharp scent of menthol hit my nose instantly, strong and cooling, just like the shiver running down my spine.
"You need a massage? I can help you with one," he offered suddenly, his tone light,too light, as if he hadn't just ignored my request to leave. For a split second, my hand paused mid-motion. The words had almost swayed me. I nearly nodded without even realizing it. But then I bit my lower lip hard—hard enough to ground myself again, to remind myself not to make that mistake.
"You should stop forcing yourself into someone's space when they clearly don't want you," I said, not looking at him, just focusing on rubbing the balm into my skin, letting its cold fire seep into the pain.
"The fact that you're still a virgin amazes me. I didn't know people like you still exist," he said casually. I froze for half a second, not from shame,but from the audacity. I felt embarrassed, yes, but more than that—I felt a strange pride. He didn't understand it, and I doubted he ever would.
"That's what I call taking a decision and adhering to it. You can't relate, can you?" I shot back without missing a beat. He chuckled lightly, then walked toward me, his footsteps slow and deliberate, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants like he was strolling through a garden instead of invading my space.
"Mine," he whispered softly into my ear, his breath brushing against my skin like silk and fire all at once. Goosebumps rose immediately along my arms and neck, a natural betrayal of how his presence stirred something within me that I wasn't ready to confront. Before I could even form a response, he turned and walked out of the room without another word.
"Pervert," I muttered beneath my breath, standing up instantly, slamming the door shut and locking it tight. I leaned against it for a moment, my heart racing as I tried to collect myself. Then, with a tired sigh, I lay back down and drifted off to sleep almost immediately, exhaustion swallowing me whole.
"We will be going to the pack on Friday. You have to train the warriors well. Training begins by six. We mustn't relent. We must stand up for our pack and fight for what belongs to us..."
I snapped my eyes open immediately as the words echoed in my head like thunder. A rooster crowed loudly right outside my window as if affirming that morning had indeed arrived. I turned my head sharply toward the clock on my nightstand.
It was already five in the morning.
With a sudden surge of urgency, I stood up and walked into the bathroom. The cold tiles met my feet and jolted me into full awareness. I brushed my teeth quickly, splashing water over my face in an attempt to wash away the last remnants of sleep. Then I turned on the shower and let the warm water run over my body, easing the tension from the night before.
After drying off, I picked up my training clothes,a fitted black top and leggings—and dressed quickly. Without wasting another second, I dashed out the door, my boots pounding softly against the hallway floor.
The maids were already awake, moving about with practiced grace. Some were in the kitchen, their hands full of plates and pots, while others were sweeping or arranging flowers in the hallway vases. They greeted me respectfully, and I nodded in return, too focused to make small talk. I zoomed past the living room and out the front entrance.
Within a few minutes, I arrived at the training ground. It was empty, quiet almost peaceful. The sky above was a dull blue, still caught between night and dawn. I sat down on the bench and brought out my phone, even though I knew there was nothing worth checking anymore. It felt more like a habit than a necessity now.
"Good morning, Chef," a voice called out, and I lifted my head. Trainees were beginning to flood the field, some of them running as if their lives depended on it.
By exactly six o'clock, the field was full and buzzing. I stood up, walked to the center of the group, and locked the gate behind me.
"Good morning, everyone," I greeted, and they responded in unison. Their energy filled the air, thick with anticipation.
"Hope you all had a nice night's rest?" I asked. A few nodded, some smiled weakly, and I took it as a good sign. "Good," I said, clearing my throat.
"Take your positions for physical fitness," I instructed. They immediately began to adjust themselves, spacing out to ensure there was enough room between them.
"Start a standing jog," I called, and they obeyed, their feet pounding the earth in rhythm.
After a few minutes, I ordered, "Push-ups." They dropped down with discipline, their arms moving steadily. We spent the next hour cycling through different exercises—sit-ups, stretches, and planks. Their sweat-drenched faces glistened in the rising sunlight.
"Five minutes rest," I announced. They collapsed onto the floor, gulping down water with gratitude.
"Hope you got the massage you wanted," JK teased, sitting beside me with a smirk.
I smiled lightly, unable to hold back the small curve of amusement on my lips.
"You don't need to reply. I get that smile," he added, chuckling.
"I wanted to ask,do you know the pack we'll be fighting against?" he asked, tilting his head.
I shook my head, surprised at the question. He frowned.
"You're the chief of army. At least you should be aware of the pack we're going to. We can't just prepare for war blindly. If we knew the terrain or their strengths, we could strategize better. Well... I can't question the Alpha," he said with a resigned sigh as he stood up.
I stood up too and blew the whistle to signal the end of the break. Everyone jumped to their feet immediately.
The training continued with full intensity. This was, after all, our last day before deployment.
"You all know we're leaving the pack tomorrow. We're going on paws," I began, my voice rising above the sounds of heavy breaths. A murmur rippled through the group.
"I need you all to prepare your minds for tomorrow. Some of you might have been in a war before, while others haven't. You should know that war is not predictable. A lot of things can go wrong. Death is part of a war. Injuries are part of a war. We must all get ready for it."
I could see the shiver spreading through their bodies, the unspoken fear beginning to bloom in their eyes.
"I'm not saying this to scare you, but to prepare you. We should not only give our strength, but our minds and loyalty to this cause. We should be our brothers' keeper. Yet, when one falls, the rest must continue. You don't stop fighting because someone you love is bleeding. We move on. That's the painful part. But not to worry, the healers will be in our midst, taking fallen soldiers to a side and healing them."
I paused, letting my words sink in, watching their faces for understanding.
"We have to make up our minds to come back victorious. It isn't just a personal decision,it's a collective one. We must all decide together. And if we do, then we will return in victory."
They all nodded, some with fierce determination in their eyes, others swallowing their fear silently.
"Crystal warriors!" I shouted.
"Victory is ours," they responded in unison, their voices strong, their spirits even stronger. I nodded, proud. The strength in their voice displays the strength in their hearts.