Noir
Chapter 13

A week later, I drew an exhausted breath, feeling the weight of fatigue settle in my bones, as I laid my dagger on the floor in front of my folded legs. My head hung in dejection, my muscles aching from the intense training. "You did good today," Thorin murmured, breaking me out of my weariness. He nudged my leg with his foot, offering a small gesture of encouragement. In his hand, he held out a chilled bottle of water, condensation dripping down its sides. Lifting my head, I peered at him through tired eyes, taking in his athletic frame. His dark hair was tousled, evidence of the intense training session we had just endured. There was no denying the resemblance between him and his brothers. They all possessed the same tall, dark, and mysterious allure, each one as gorgeous as the other.

Shaking off my thoughts, I reached up, my fingers brushing against the cool plastic of the water bottle as I grabbed it from Thorin's hand. Uncapping it, I took a swallow of the cold liquid. I groaned at the relief it gave my over-dry throat. As I lowered the bottle I murmured, "But not fast or strong enough, huh?" My words were more a statement than a question, carrying the frustration I felt.

Thorin stood watching me, and at my words, he pursed his lips, shaking his head. "No."

Once again, I raised the water bottle to my lips, feeling the condensation on its outside with my fingertips. After taking another drink, I carefully recapped it and set it down on the tiled floor. With a firm grip on my dagger, I hoisted myself up, feeling the strain in my muscles as I climbed to my feet.

"Then, shall we go again?" Thorin's grin was infectious, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. I nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down my forehead, stinging my eyes. Raising a trembling hand, I wiped away the moisture, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

We resumed our training, the sound of our dagger blades clashing filling the air. Drops of my sweat dripped onto the floor. Time seemed to slow as Thorin pushed me harder. My body ached, my legs burned with fatigue, but I didn't quit. In that moment, a surge of determination coursed through my veins. The world around us faded away, and all that mattered was the space between Thorin and me. With a sudden lunge, my dagger traced a graceful arc towards his chest, my muscles straining to stop just before contact. My focus was targeted, as if every fiber of my being was honed in on my moves.

With every step, every movement, every breath, I pushed myself harder, refusing to give in to the pain, the exhaustion. My muscles burned, my lungs ached, my heart raced, but I knew that this was what I was meant to do. This was who I was. I was a huntress.

Thorin and I circled each other, our eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. He was my friend, my mentor, but in this moment, he was also my greatest rival. I could feel the tension building between us, the anticipation of each other's next move, growing.

As the distance between us closed, the muscles in his arms and legs tightened, determination in his gaze. I knew that he was feeling it too, this overwhelming need to push me past my limits, to see what I could really do.

With a swift and powerful sweep of his leg, Thorin attempted to knock my legs out from underneath me, but I sensed the impending move before he even made it.

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From the doorway of the training room, I heard the sound of clapping, resonating with a mix of amusement and approval. Turning my head, I peered at Noir where he nonchalantly lounged against the sturdy door frame. Pushing himself away from the frame, he sauntered towards us, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. A low, guttural growl escaped his lips, emphasizing his seriousness, "If you had been fighting for real, Lyra, you would be dead. Never, ever let anything distract you."

Noir's sudden appearance was a rare occurrence, as he had been keeping his distance since we returned home. Our once easy camaraderie had transformed, replaced by an unsettling tension. Part of this deterioration, I knew, stemmed from the fact that we had engaged in a passionate encounter, an unspoken secret that hung between us. The weight of his withheld truths weighed heavily on my mind as well, unsettling my heart. I could sense that he was aware of my conflicted emotions, just as I was aware of his.

My enthusiasm for training dwindled as the scent of Noir's cologne filled the air, mingling with the scent of my sweat. Frustrated, I reached for my water bottle, the cool condensation soothing my overheated palms. Glancing at Thorin, I muttered, "I've had enough." My voice echoed the exhaustion I felt as I continued, "I'm going to take a shower."

As I made my way to my room, the familiar scent of aged books and faint whiff of metal from the many weapons the agency houses filled my nostrils. As I glanced in through the doorway of our investigation room, the room was bathed in a warm glow from the still illuminated lights of the computers, their soft hum a welcome and familiar sound. The walls, once adorned with literary treasures, now proudly displayed an array of weapons, each with its own unique shape and purpose. Some were intricately designed, almost like works of art, while others were more practical, built for efficiency. The shelves still held books, but their purpose had shifted from pleasure and knowledge, to serving as guides for the shadowy creatures we hunted. As I approached my desk, my gaze fell upon the scattered papers, bearing cryptic symbols and notes from my recent cases. The tactile feel of the worn wood beneath my fingertips brought a sense of familiarity and comfort. With a heavy sigh, I tore my gaze awayfrom my desk and continue on my path towards my room.

As I walked past the large kitchen, the irresistible aroma of Eton's buttery popcorn enveloped the air, beckoning me closer. The sight of him meticulously preparing the fluffy kernels, despite his lack of need for sustenance as a vampire, had always amused me.

The tantalizing aroma wafted towards me, causing my stomach to growl in hunger. However, exhaustion consumed me, and all I desired was to collapse into the welcoming embrace of sleep. With no desire for company, I reluctantly turned away from Eton and his mouthwatering treat, continuing on my way. As I finally approached the hallway leading to my room, a heavy sigh escaped my lips upon spotting Noir standing before my door. My steps slowed, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of resentment at his presence; a reminder of how chaotic my life had become.