Chapter 390: Practical Lesson
Evaline:
His smile deepened - that knowing, slightly dangerous kind that made my pulse quicken. The corner of his lips tilted upward, a flicker of mischief in his usually calm blue eyes. "Oh, Eva," he said, rising from his chair with slow, deliberate grace. "I’m glad you think it’s easy."
Something in his voice changed then - the warmth remained, but there was an undertone, a teasing sharpness that made my heart beat faster. I straightened instinctively, the edge of confidence I had been holding onto beginning to slip. "Why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?"
Kieran moved closer. The faint scrape of the chair legs against the floor echoed through the quiet study. His shadow fell across the books, swallowing the lines of glowing runes that shimmered faintly on the pages. When he leaned forward, bracing one hand on the desk beside me, I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His presence always carried a strange kind of calm power - silent, but impossible to ignore.
"Because," he said softly, his tone dipping into something deeper, steadier, "we have only done theory." His gaze held mine, the intensity of it making it difficult to breathe. "It’s time for the practical part."
I blinked, uncertain if I heard him right. "Practical part?"
He nodded once, a faint trace of amusement flickering across his features. "You didn’t think I would let you finish your first lesson without a test, did you?"
A nervous laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "You are kidding, right?"
"I never kid about lessons," he said, straightening and turning toward one of the high wooden shelves behind him. His movements were smooth, purposeful - the kind that always carried an unspoken confidence.
My stomach flipped uneasily as I watched him scan the shelf. "What kind of test are we talking about, exactly?"
He didn’t answer right away. His hand reached for something - a small, silver object that caught the light as he pulled it free. When I saw what it was, my breath hitched.
A dagger.
Not the usual kind, but something ceremonial. The blade was slender and sharp, glinting faintly under the sunlight streaming through the window. The hilt was engraved with delicate runes - markings I didn’t recognize but instinctively knew were old. Ancient, even.
"Kieran..." My voice faltered, and I stood from my chair. "What are you going to do with that?"
He turned the blade over in his hand, examining the runes as though they were harmless etchings. "To heal, you have to understand pain," he said calmly. "To control your energy, you must learn how it reacts to injury - both yours and someone else’s."
The calmness in his tone only made the unease inside me grow. "That doesn’t sound like something we should be testing with an actual dagger."
He glanced up at me, and for a moment, I caught the faintest glimmer of amusement behind his serious expression. "Relax. I’m not going to hurt you."
"Then what are you planning to do?" I asked warily.
He didn’t respond - not immediately. Instead, he lifted the blade slightly, and realization dawned on me a heartbeat before it happened.
"Kieran, no!"
I moved without thinking, reaching out to grab his wrist. My fingers wrapped around his arm just as the blade grazed his palm. The faint metallic scent of blood hit my senses, sharp and startling.
"What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended. "Are you insane?"
He didn’t even flinch. His gaze flicked to my hand clutching his wrist, and a small, almost teasing smile tugged at his lips. "You forget," he said quietly, "I’m an alpha, Evaline. One of the strongest among our kind. A small cut like this isn’t going to kill me."
"That’s not the point!" I snapped, tightening my grip. But he gently pried my fingers off, his touch unhurried but firm - reminding me, without words, of just how effortlessly strong he really was.
"I told you not to worry," he said, his tone softening again. "I need you to focus. To feel the energy... not just imagine it."
Before I could protest further, he turned his palm toward me. The wound was small but deep enough for a thin line of crimson to trickle down his hand. The sight of it sent a jolt through my chest - a mix of worry and disbelief.
He held his hand steady between us, his expression calm and unwavering. "Now," he murmured, "heal it."
The room went utterly still.
The air seemed heavier, charged with quiet tension. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, fast and unsteady.
"Kieran..." I whispered again, half pleading, half afraid.
"Trust yourself," he said simply. "And trust me."
Those three words were enough to still my panic - not entirely, but enough for me to breathe. He was serious about this lesson, I could see it in his eyes. And despite the small act of recklessness, I trusted him. Even more than I trusted myself.
I swallowed hard and reached out. My fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against his hand - warm and solid beneath mine. The small cut glistened, bright against his pale skin.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply and searched for that spark within me - the same light he had guided me to find earlier. I pictured it again...a soft stream of warmth swirling inside my chest, expanding with every heartbeat.
"Focus," Kieran murmured, his voice low, grounding. "Don’t think, just feel."
So I did.
I let go of the fear, the hesitation, and let the warmth move. I imagined it flowing down my arm, collecting in my palm, seeping through my fingertips. It felt like heat and comfort all at once... as if something alive was moving inside me.
The moment my energy reached him, I felt a faint resistance, like a barrier, before it yielded, allowing the warmth to sink into his skin. The sensation startled me, but I kept going, letting instinct guide me.
And then... something shifted.