**CHAPTER 9** “ALEX! WATCH HIS HANDS. YOU’RE LETTING TOO MANY BLOCKS GET THROUGH!” The sharpness in Aiden's voice cut through my daze, bringing my focus back to the sparring match before me. I nodded, steeling myself against Kain's relentless onslaught. His fists and feet were nimble, a blur as they targeted me mercilessly. I was painfully aware that despite my best efforts, I was crumbling under his attack. My movements felt sluggish, awkward and fragmented, influenced far too much by the strange late-night conversation lingering in my mind with Grandma Piperi. This was not the time for me to be distracted. Today marked the first practice with Kain involved, and I was flailing like a novice. Kain was not cutting me any slack—definitely not a surprise—but my pride was on the line and I desperately wanted to prove myself in front of him, another Sentinel. “Come on!” I grunted as his foot slammed past my guard, landing squarely against my stomach. The impact knocked the wind from me, and I crumbled to my knees, pain radiating through my core like wildfire. I instinctively wrapped my arms around my abdomen and grimaced from the strain in my back, laid low like a beaten pup. Kain towered over me, concern flickering in his sea-green eyes. “Dammit, Alex! What were you doing? You shouldn’t have been that close!” “Yeah, I know.” I groaned, forcing myself to breathe steadily as adrenaline coursed through me. The sting of humiliation ignited, kindling my frustration into simmering rage. I had walked right into that kick. It was an embarrassment no one should recover from; not even a child would have made that mistake. Instead of lashing out at me, Aiden bore down on Kain, gripping him by the collar with an intimidating energy that made Kain go pale. “Practice is over.” Kain's mouth fell open, protest on his lips, but Aiden’s stern demeanor left no room for argument. “Understand?” From my position on the floor, I managed to stand, shaking off the grimace of defeat. “Aiden, it’s my fault. I leaned in too close.” The admission hung in the air; the lack of a need for further explanation was painful for me. Aiden glanced back, his expression inscrutable, before releasing Kain with a dismissive gesture. “Go.” As Kain retreated, I couldn’t shake the weight of my blunders. The gaze of a Sentinel held a heavy significance I wanted to live up to, and my latest performance was anything but exemplary. Aiden stepped in front of me again, and there was an unmistakable concern etched into his features. “Let me take a look at it.” “Oh… it's nothing.” I turned away slightly, trying to mask the burning in my eyes that was spurred by my own disappointment. I wanted nothing more than to sulk in silence, but the deep crevices of discomfort threatened my composure. Aiden didn’t buy it; his gentle hand turned me back to face him, and I could read his understanding clear as day. “It's okay, Alex.” His tone was soothing, an anchor amidst my tempest of frustration. When he stepped back, I followed him to a small room, sterile and clinical, save for a painting of Aphrodite that felt oddly inappropriate amidst the medical supplies. “Get up on the table.” Reluctantly, I did as he said, wishing to vanish into the floor rather than allow my vulnerabilities to be laid bare. Aiden’s gaze fell far above me, introspective and distant, drawing me from my spiraling thoughts. “How does your stomach feel?” he queried, prodding gently. “Okay.” Despite my hesitation, my stomach roiled with anxiety, and I cast my eyes downward. “Why did you grab your back?” “It’s just sore.” My voice lacked conviction. I felt like an anxious child caught in mischief. “I feel like such a dork.” “You’re not a dork,” he countered into the silence. “Yes, I am. I should have been paying attention. I walked right into that kick—Kain didn’t do anything wrong.” “I’ve never seen you so... distracted.” Aiden’s remark struck home, a reminder of the wrestling match between my focused training and the chaos in my head. As he continued, the gentility of his tone cut through my shame. “You’re doing well, but you can’t afford distractions.” His gaze, unwavering, reinforced his urgency. “It’s almost July, and we have just about two months before I need to report to your uncle again.” Crushed, I stared at my hands, the weight of reality suffocating. Shame pooled in my chest. “I know.” “Why are you so distracted, Alex?” Aiden’s inquiry pierced through my inner turmoil. “You move like you haven’t slept, and your mind is clearly somewhere else. If it’s not the party Jackson threw last night, is it a guy?” “Look, there are several things I’m not discussing with you. Guys are one of them.” If I could just dig a hole and hide from everything, I would. Aiden raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Really? If it’s interfering with your training, then it’s interfering with me.” “Geez,” I muttered, uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny. His silence commanded my attention. “Is there a guy?” “No! I don’t have a guy!” I erupted, flushing under his calm gaze. “Last night—" “Alex…” he interrupted. His cool demeanor shifted subtly, creating an air that signaled he expected more from me. “What’s bothering you?” Sighing defeatedly, I took a deep breath. “I talked to Grandma Piperi last night.” His expression didn’t waver, but I caught the fleeting flicker of surprise in his eyes. “And?” “Lea was right,” I began, feeling the air thicken, “and wrong.” “Don’t—” he cautioned, interrupting me. “You’re not responsible.” “But she said I would kill the one I love, Aiden. How is that even possible? My mom is dead.” An inscrutable look passed over his face for a moment but vanished before I could grasp its meaning. “You said you didn’t believe in that stuff.” “Of course you remember. How could I forget?” I scoffed lightly, frustration bubbling. “But being told you’re going to kill someone you love is insane.” “So that’s what’s been clouding your focus today?” “Yes! No... I mean do you think it was my fault?” A lump of worry clung to my throat. “Alex,” he responded gently, shaking his head. “When I volunteered to train you, I lied.” “Yeah, I figured. You stood up for me because of what happened to your parents,” I intuited, watching closely for his reaction. His silence was confirmation enough. “I think I remind you of yourself when it happened.” Aiden’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re more perceptive than I give you credit for.” “Thanks.” I allowed my lips to curl into a weak smile, but the weight of our conversation soon settled upon me again, heavy and disheartening. He continued softly, “After something tragic like that, there’s always the haunting question of what you could have done differently. It’s a burden you carry, but you shouldn’t.” The melancholy in his voice sent an icy shiver down my spine. “For the longest time, I wished I had become a Sentinel sooner. Maybe I could’ve stopped the daimon.” “You couldn’t have known a daimon would attack. You were just a kid, Aiden. You can’t blame yourself.” He studied me intently; his gaze coursed through me, evoking an unsettling intensity. “Then how can you still shoulder the blame for what happened to your mom?” “Because I should have known, even if I didn’t.” His expression morphed, experience etched into the lines of his face. “You’re still grappling with guilt, so much so that you’re projecting it onto the oracle’s words. Alex, an oracle deals in possibilities, not certainties.” “And I thought they had a connection to the gods,” I retorted dryly. “An oracle does see into the past and the potential future, but nothing is predetermined. Your fate lies within your hands. What happened to your mom was not your burden to carry; let it go.” “Why does everyone tiptoe around the word ‘died’? It’s not what happened—she was killed!” Pain tightened in my chest. The shadow of understanding crossed Aiden's features, but he motioned for me to follow him to the next step. Before I knew it, he lifted the back of my shirt and inhaled sharply. “What?!” He didn’t respond, instead intent on inspecting my back. “How long has this been like this?” “I don’t know… since we started training.” “Why didn’t you say anything?” “It’s not a big deal!” “Alex, you really think this isn’t a big deal?” He turned, frustrations clear. “You have a higher pain tolerance than most, but it doesn’t mean you have to ignore your injuries!” A nervous laugh escaped me at his intensity. “It’s really not hurting that bad. It’s just... part of training. It happens.” Aiden’s expression shifted to incredulity. “You haven’t been training for three years. Your body isn’t equipped to withstand this!” “Uh, I don’t think—” “Were you afraid of what I would think of you if you told me?” His voice was blunt, and it seized my breath with casual clarity. “No!” I shook my head vigorously, embarrassed by the implication. His lips pressed together again. “I didn’t think your body would adapt this quickly. Honestly, I should have known better.” “Really, it’s not that bad,” I insisted, even if the ache in my back had grown familiar. “Here.” He turned to a shelf and retrieved a jar, unscrewing the lid much to my curiosity. “This will help, and next time, promise me you’ll tell me if something’s wrong.” “Alright.” I acquiesced, wary of pushing him further. “What is that stuff, anyway?” “It’s a mixture of Arnica and menthol. It helps reduce pain and inflammation.” Anticipating him to hand me the jar, I was caught off guard when he dipped his fingers into it instead. “What are you—?” “Just hold your shirt up. I can’t let this stain your clothes.” Flustered yet compliant, I held the edge of my shirt up as he applied the soothing balm. Shock coursed through me as I felt the coolness of his touch; a sensation so foreign and yet so welcome. Following the line of my spine, his fingers danced over my skin and the world seemed to tunnel into nothing but that moment. Images of Aphrodite’s artwork loomed above, mocking the growing tension between us. “Did you ever know your biological father?” His voice unfurled as gently as his touch. “No. He passed before I was born.” “Did your mom love him?” “Yeah,” I replied, memories flickering across my mind. “We’d go back to Gatlinburg, the cabins made her feel closer to him.” He continued, seemingly lost in thought. “What would you have done if the daimons hadn’t shown up?” Swallowing hard, I hesitated. “I wanted to do a lot of things.” “Like?” Inhaling deeply, I felt lighter at the prospect. “We went to the zoo once when I was little. I thought I belonged there, among the animals.” Aiden’s surprise melted into laughter, brightening the dim room. “You thought you belonged in a zoo?” A reluctant smile tugged at my lips, “Yeah, I was a strange kid. Working with animals felt like a calling, but I always wanted to return to the Covenant.” He paused, and I could sense contemplation dancing behind his eyes. “You needed to?” “Yeah. I don’t fit in anywhere else, Aiden.” Staring for a long while, he appeared deep in internal conflict. “You’re not weird, you know that, right?” He countered. “Yes, I am.” I tried to disperse the tension with a laugh, but when I looked at him, I caught a hint of vulnerability, something captivating tucked under his calm exterior. The moment stretched long between us. He captured my gaze, and suddenly we were inches apart, the air crackling with an electricity that left me breathless. “Next time—” Aiden started, his tone serious. “Promise to tell me if you’re hurt.” A hue of warmth settled between us, illuminating everything in that small medical room. “Okay.” I felt my cheeks heat at the proximity, tangled in the nuance of the moment. “And just so you know, you’re not... weird.” My breath hitched, the playful repartee dissipating as his sincerity seeped through my defenses. “I—” The door swung open, interrupting the fragile intimacy we’d woven. Leon, a mountain of muscle, stood in the doorway, his presence shaking the very foundations of our conversation. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he announced, locking eyes with Aiden, then glancing my way. “Did she hurt herself?” “She’s fine. What do you need?” Aiden shifted gears, all business again. “Marcus needs to see us.” As Aiden turned to follow Leon out, a hint of urgency returned. He glanced back, sharpening the earlier silence between us. “We’ll talk more about this later.” “Okay,” I confirmed softly, yet he was gone before I could complete my thought. The walls slid back around me, and I turned my gaze to the painting of Aphrodite. My heart raced as I grappled with dawning realizations. Aiden was everything—a pure-blood, a mentor, and yet so much more. There was no way I could harbor feelings beyond appreciation—not for someone like him. But with every fleeting interaction, the way he looked at me, how his touch stirred emotions long buried, made this resolve precarious at best. He was a pure-blood, and I was just a half-blood. But gods, how warm those brief moments felt, the butterflies in my stomach signing a melody I dared not interpret.