False Expectations

Adelina's pov:

-"Follow me," Demetrio said, motioning toward the training field. The field stretched out before us, the size of a football stadium. At the center, there was a large area marked with painted circles on the ground where the man-to-man battles were held. To the side, a long table was covered with a wide array of weapons, ranging from medieval to modern. There were knives, swords, shields, axes, bats, guns loaded with silver bullets, machine guns, revolvers, rifles, and more—everything a warrior might need for combat.

Around the edges of the field, several warriors were training. Demetrio walked over to them and ordered them to stop, his commanding voice making them fall into line immediately. He turned to one of them, a man I recognized as Gregory—a very tall, muscular figure who stepped forward when his name was called.

Demetrio gave a brief nod in greeting. "This is Gregory," he said, then turned to us. "You will fight him."

The atmosphere shifted instantly, and the warriors stood still, watching as Demetrio began to explain the rules of the training exercise.

-"You will fight in three rounds," Demetrio continued, his tone firm. "The total time will be thirty seconds. The first twenty seconds, you will fight in your human form, using only your body for the first ten seconds. In the next ten, you may use any weapon you choose from that table. After that, you will shift to your wolf form for the last ten seconds. But—you are not allowed to shift until I give the command."

I nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline. I had trained in various forms before, but this would be different. Demetrio's rules were clear and straightforward. My heart raced as he turned to me, waiting for the signal.

-"Begin!" he barked, and the command made my muscles tense with readiness.

I faced Gregory, my gaze steady as I prepared myself to engage in the first round of this test.

We began to move around the perimeter of the battle circle, each of us carefully sizing up the other. I wasn't going to be the first to strike; I needed to get a feel for Gregory's moves. My canines began to elongate, and my nails sharpened, ready for whatever he would throw at me. We circled each other for a few seconds, neither making a move until he attacked first, throwing punches from all directions.

I blocked and dodged his strikes, my body fluid and focused, repelling his blows with ease. For a while, it seemed like we were evenly matched, but then I saw my opportunity. He threw a wide punch, leaving his left leg exposed. I took advantage of it, landing a strong punch that swept him off balance, sending him crashing to the ground.

He scrambled to his feet, clearly caught off guard and angry. The intensity in his eyes was evident as he launched himself at me once more. This time, his strikes came faster and harder. His blows were relentless, and though I dodged some, one punch hit me in the side, knocking the wind out of me and throwing me to the ground. Before I could recover, he aimed a kick at me. I quickly rolled away and pushed myself back to my feet.

We locked eyes again as he charged at me, throwing more punches. I blocked, dodged, and waited for my opening. When I saw it, I countered—letting my strength surge through me. I kicked him in the stomach and followed up with punches to his chest and face. The force of my blows seemed to catch him off guard, and with one powerful kick, I landed a strike that knocked the wind out of him—right where it hurts most.

He crumpled to the floor, but I wasn't done. I took the chance to kick and punch him some more, pushing him back as he struggled to defend himself. His attempts to block became slower, more desperate. Finally, he managed to stand up again, and the fight resumed. He threw another series of punches, but I dodged most of them and landed a few solid blows in return.