Working our way through Chapter 16. I wanted to update with the next chunk of it because I felt like it. HUGE thanks to Lady Sloane who vastly improves what you will be reading today. Any mistakes are mine.
Section theme: Adapt. Please enjoy & thanks for reading!
The Phoenix
Chapter 16 (cont'd)
The next month fell into a pattern— there was an odd comfort in it. Get up. Pick up breakfast to go. Train with Jack. Break for lunch. Train with Garrett. Eat dinner with the Order members. Train in the spare bedrooms until I crawled to bed, legs trembling from exhaustion. Every. Day. I stopped keeping track of the time that passed. I just remained present. Focusing on becoming a lethal killing machine with Bulat. The lapse of time only came to my attention when I was diverted from my routine with a possible mission to embark on (which I was always told last minute I wasn't needed) or news about Maximus's continued delay returning to the Order (further delaying my attendance at my first Order Meeting).
Paul and Jessica were not a part of my new routine because at the two-week mark of my arrival, I did the most wretched, cowardly thing. I texted both Paul and Jessica to say I was extending my stay, wasn't sure when I was coming back, and was going off the grid. Once the message was shown as delivered, I shut off my phone, and I have not turned it back on since.
…
My pattern was delightfully led astray one Wednesday morning when Jamie and Chadwick announced to me over the breakfast table that Jack was going to let me use Bulat with him for training. I had to contain myself and resist squealing like a schoolgirl over the spectacular news. However, I did share the same grin that passed between the Wainwrights brothers. I couldn't help but hum to myself as I strolled to the training grounds after breakfast. I intended on arriving early and mentally preparing for my training session with Jack. I was so elated when the news was delivered that I even had the pleasure of ignoring Garrett's witty remarks. I wasn't going to let him rain on my parade.
…
Jack launched himself toward me, heading straight for my weakest point. My stomach. Which only moments ago suffered a blow from his boot that many would not pick themselves back up after. I evaded his fist at the last second, watching him strike nothing but air. Before his fist rescinded back, I slammed my own fist into his tricep. The blow was not enough to make him stagger; instead, his elbow connected with my jaw before I could blink.
I jumped back before the full impact of his punch could set in. I stumbled on my landing, ignoring the throbbing pain of the ankle I just twisted. No crunching of bones meant I could go on.
"Warm up is over. Get Bulat," Jack ordered.
I wiped the sweat dripping off my neck with the palm of my hand, resisting the temptation to rub my aching jaw. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of how much his punch really hurt. The upside of that pain was that it surpassed the discomfort of my twisted ankle which I could now hold off limping on.
I walked over to Bulat with a casual pace, careful not to betray how eager I was to use Bulat for the first time with Jack. Jack didn't know what he was in for. I had come a long way since Garrett began to train me with my weapon. I was on my way to becoming a lethal threat and no longer be the butt of the joke amongst the boy's club.
I grabbed Bulat's handle with my right hand before wrapping the chain three times over along my left forearm. The silver curved blade dangled below my left wrist, glistening in the sunlight. My eyes dialed in on the silver ring adorning my right pointer finger. With delight, I swiveled the cap of my ring off to the side before pricking the pad of my thumb on the once concealed metal pin. Blood surfaced and began to trail down the arch of my thumb. My bloody thumb hovered over the handle, itching to merge, as I walked back to Jack. I couldn't afford to waste a second being blood locked in with Bulat though. I needed all the time allotted with my energy before it was depleted.
Returning to where we last left off, I grinned at Jack. I eyed Tridam pulsating in his hands and knew it was time. Wrapping my thumb around the handle, I declared, "You don't know what you're in for." Jack wiggled his fingers with his free palm outstretched, beckoning me to make the first move.
With pleasure, I shook off the chain and felt the taste of freedom. Raw power snaked through my body, granting me the abilities that came with being the wielder of Bulat.
…
I swung Bulat forward, grunting as Jack narrowly escaped the blow. My muscles were sore from weeks of training. The breaths in my throat were ragged as I slung Bulat at Jack again and again. He blocked the blade with ease, as if every move I made was predictable. The increasing sloppiness of my aim was embarrassing. However, I couldn't quit. Not until my ragged breath stopped. My muscles cramped or tore. Or my sprained ankle snapped. I kept fighting. Just like I battled my grief one day at a time, I also applied this mindset to building my strength.
But before any of those circumstances occurred, my stomach caved in first. I was wearing my breakfast before Bulat sailed five feet to the left of Jack.
I forced myself to look up at Jack. His furrowed brows and the sneer on his lips showed his annoyance, but I could have sworn there was a faint kernel of acceptance in his eyes. "You're done. Clean up."
I had survived for one hour. Not including our warmup.
…
Later that day, I realized how brutal the demand on my body was to train twice a day with Bulat. In hindsight, what I had thought was Garrett teasing during breakfast this morning was by chance him warning me this would occur.
I hardly lasted five minutes blood locked into Bulat during my second training session of the day with Garrett before I was in agonizing pain, sprawled on the grass and ready to give up. Spasms wracked my muscles while my legs refused to obey me and stand. As if they believed my bones would snap. I tried to prop myself off the ground, but my arms collapsed under me, sending lances of throbbing pain up my heart—to the real epicenter.
Garrett clicked his tongue and circled around me slowly. One heavy eyebrow slanted in strong disapproval. I tried to stop them, but tears of pain welled in my eyes. My body was nearly bent towards its breaking point. I was overconfident in how much I could give today. All the last-minute decisions when I was rejected from a mission with other Order members seemed fair in this moment. I would hold them back. I was still too weak.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself." I at least had enough strength to make a particularly vulgar gesture at Garrett in response. "If you come across a roadblock, look for another way. Or make one. Adapt."
Garrett had once informed me to tell him when I was out of energy. Wasn't my current pathetic display an indicator? Did I really need to verbalize to him that I was giving up? What was he expecting from me?
"Adapt or prove inviting you here was a mistake."
My mouth went dry. Garrett's harsh words were the punch in the gut I needed. I couldn't argue he was wrong about me needing to adapt. He was right. But how could I adapt when I was nearly depleted of my energy? I couldn't ask him that because I was sure he wanted me to figure it out for myself. My head was on overload with how much I had been giving of myself to my training, yet I couldn't solve this problem. I tried to ignore the insecurities his taunt was beginning to bring out in me. I had thought I left them behind; I knew I belonged here. The voice in my head echoed Garrett's words derisively.
I snapped.
"You are a walking contradiction!"
"Excuse me?" Garrett stopped in his tracks and regarded me with a cold stare. I wasn't ready to back down despite not being able to sit upright.
"You're supposed to be 'my mentor', but you don't help! I get you want me to figure it out for myself, and that's fine. But you never praise me or give me enough! And you dare to say my presence here is a mistake?! I get more from fucking Jack than I do with you, Garrett. I know I cannot go on a mission yet, but you're not helping me progress. You are holding me back by barely helping me. What are you afraid of? Why can't you push me or help me be better?!"
My eyes widened in horror at the words that just poured out of my mouth. My long-harbored internal thoughts were finally verbalized, and I didn't know what to do. I was just so pissed at Garrett. He was the one on my side from the start, but he always seemed to be holding back with me. It wasn't until I started paying closer attention to his one-on-ones with other Order members that I realized he could do better with me. Jack didn't hold back. But Garrett was. And I was done being silent and accepting it.
I gritted my teeth and wrapped Bulat's metal chain around my left wrist. He wanted me to adapt? I was going to fucking adapt. Pressing the heels of my palms into the ground beside me, I summoned what little strength I had and popped myself off the ground, landing in a squatting position.
Bulat, you want to know the personification of my beliefs right now? It's to kick this arrogant, good-for-nothing mentor's ass and show him what we can be. You and I are going to change the world. And it only starts when we go on a mission. We only prove we deserve that role when we knock Garrett on his ass. So, shall we?
A new surge of energy pulsed within my body, reviving my once fatigued state. It was as if Bulat was responding to me and saying "Yes, we shall". I began to chase after Garrett. Zig-zagging to match Garrett's speed. When I could focus on his face, I had the hugest desire to claw off his smug expression with my bare hands. He smiled as if he was expecting me to react this way. To find some way to level up. I began to swipe the blade at him every time he was within close reach. Each swing was a near miss. Since he was falling into the lull of my pattern, I decided to take his advice. Adapt. With each swing, I discreetly released some of Bulat's chain. Building up its length to extend for a longer strike range. I bided my time, unconcerned with the energy I was spending. When I was confident in the chain length I released, I delayed my final hit by a fraction of a second. And when Garrett continued to smile, I winked before flinging the blade at the end of my short-range blow to hook around his shoulder and pierce through his undead heart.
Garrett's mouth fell open before he went completely still. With pleasure, I watched the shock pass over his face before he tilted his head to the tip of Bulat piercing through him and pressed his fingertips to guide it back through his chest for its release.
"There is a science in getting people to trust you. In this case, to be ready for a mission. I say, Bella, you're almost there." Now it was my turn to be stunned at the wide smile on Garrett's face. It almost seemed like a smile that stemmed from pride. Even after the terrible things I admitted to him earlier. I pulled back on the chain of Bulat to fasten it in my belt. And although I had more I could give for this training session…I just couldn't. Garrett's words seemed like an invitation for me to leave anyway.
I nodded tersely, and despite myself I kept my mouth shut as I walked away from the training grounds. I honestly didn't understand what the hell I was feeling in that moment. Towards Garrett.
...
Author's Note: Making our way through this chapter makes me happy because Chapters 17-19 are a real breakthrough for Bella once we get there.
Also, if you are a Guest Reviewer I will reply in my ending Author's Notes and any signed reviews I will PM if possible.
Lalaland972's review response:
Guest: Can I say your reviews made me happy and LOL? Very likely you will never read this. But not many people review these days so even for negative reviews, I appreciate you taking the time to let me know your thoughts and to actually see the story through to the last update. Bella IS selfish. I hope less so than in Part I, but she is flawed as all main characters are : )