For the second time in the span of a week, James got punched so fucking hard he felt his bones shatter.
If this were some anime bullshit, that punch would've replayed three different times from three different camera angles just to emphasize how absurdly powerful it was.
His knees hit the dirt.
Air refused to enter his lungs.
His massive claws dug furrows into the ground as he desperately tried to suck in a breath.
Inside his body, he could actually hear the sound of bones knitting themselves back together.
Unfortunately for him, Luna didn't believe in recovery periods.
"Up."
Her voice came from directly above him.
James could see her shadow.
Every instinct in his body exploded into motion.
Something was coming.
Trusting that instinct, he threw himself sideways, practically rolling through the dirt while bringing his arm up to guard.
Just in time.
An axe kick crashed down between his guard.
BAM.
CRACK.
The sound of every bone in his forearm breaking echoed through the clearing.
James gritted his teeth.
This was very fucking bad.
The force behind the blow was so ridiculous that his feet sank four inches into the ground.
Not pushed back.
Not knocked over.
The woman had literally driven his entire body four inches into the earth with a single kick.
"FUCK!"
That shit felt heavy.
This was the first time he'd actually needed to use his full strength.
The punch earlier didn't count.
That had been a test.
This?
This was an ass-beating.
A small smile tugged at Luna's lips.
James barely caught it.
Is she enjoying this?
The answer was probably yes.
Unfortunately, he didn't have time to dwell on it.
Dark shadows suddenly crawled across her legs.
Shi—
He didn't even get to finish the thought.
Using the leg planted against his guard as a pivot point, Luna shoved his arm downward, twisted her body, and unleashed a vicious spinning kick.
Her leg moved so fast that James didn't actually see the attack.
One second she was moving.
The next her foot was already connecting with his skull.
Pure instinct took over.
Darkness surged through his body.
Every ounce of shadow magic he could muster condensed into the exact point of impact.
Good, Luna thought.
BOOM.
James became a furry projectile.
He crashed through a nearby tree with enough force to shatter the trunk into splinters.
The world spun.
His head rang.
For a moment, he was seeing double.
Maybe triple.
James groaned.
That shit hurt like a motherfucker.
"Don't you think that's a bit hard for training?"
Because from his perspective, she'd come dangerously close to turning his skull into decorative confetti.
"It was sloppy," Luna replied.
Her gaze swept over him.
"But your instincts are sharp."
She completely ignored the fact that she'd been beating the absolute fuck out of him.
Instead, she seemed more interested in the fact that he'd instinctively used shadow magic to defend himself.
"You tried to take my head off."
James felt that was a perfectly reasonable complaint.
"That kick would've killed a normal person a hundred times over."
"If I wanted to take your head off," Luna said coldly, "you wouldn't still be breathing."
James opened his mouth.
Then immediately closed it again.
He remembered how effortlessly she'd blocked his strongest punch.
"...Well, I know that."
A pause.
"But still."
Luna ignored him.
"Let me show you how to properly use your shadows."
She raised a hand.
Darkness gathered around her fingers.
A sword emerged from the shadows.
It was a jagged, pitch-black longsword that seemed to drink in the surrounding light.
The thing practically radiated death.
James immediately took a step backward.
"Wait. Yo... chill."
For the first time all day, he genuinely feared for his life.
Luna vanished.
Not moved.
Vanished.
She appeared directly in front of him.
Shit.
SLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGGGGGGGG.
The sound of flesh being cut echoed through the clearing.
A huge gash opened across James's chest.
Instinct took over immediately.
Darkness surged from his fingers as he pressed a hand against the wound, forcing the torn flesh together.
The shadows wrapped around the injury like black stitches, keeping everything where it belonged.
The last thing he wanted was his guts spilling out onto the training field.
"FUCK!"
That hurt like a motherfucker.
Luna's expression didn't soften in the slightest.
His adaptation accelerates when his life is in danger, she noted silently.
She could see it in his eyes.
The panic.
The desperation.
The frantic search for an escape route.
Like a cornered animal.
And there were very few things more dangerous than a cornered beast.
James had reached the same conclusion.
For the first time since arriving at camp, he genuinely felt like this woman might erase his existence from the face of the earth.
So he attacked.
His clawed hand slashed toward her in a vicious backhand, attempting to force her backward and create space.
Luna simply stepped around it.
Her sword flashed toward his throat.
James ducked.
The blade whistled over his head.
A stab came next.
He twisted aside.
Then a slash aimed at his liver.
James jumped.
The sword passed beneath him.
How the fuck is a sword made entirely out of darkness this sharp?
That was a legitimate question.
Seriously.
Nothing Luna had explained about shadow magic had prepared him for this.
A sword made from darkness should not be cutting through flesh like a hot knife through butter.
Yet here they were.
Luna's blade came down in a brutal overhead strike.
James reacted instantly.
Darkness coated his arm.
His clawed hand slammed into the side of the blade, stopping it halfway through its descent.
The impact rattled every bone in his body.
But he held.
Then he grabbed the sword.
A grin spread across his face.
"Got it."
No sword.
No slashing.
No getting bisected.
Problem solved.
"Good."
Luna's palm struck his stomach.
"But not good enough."
The impact was horrific.
James felt his organs shift violently inside his torso.
His intestines twisted.
His stomach lurched.
Everything inside him felt like it had been thrown into a blender.
The force hit so hard that his bladder immediately surrendered.
Before he could even process what happened, Luna swept his leg.
The world vanished beneath him.
For a brief second, he was suspended six inches above the ground.
Then Luna spun.
BAM.
Her kick slammed into his stomach.
James folded.
The air exploded from his lungs.
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
His chest desperately tried to inhale.
Nothing happened.
For five agonizing seconds, he couldn't breathe.
His body screamed for oxygen.
Panic surged through every nerve.
I am going to die.
The thought felt strangely calm.
This woman was fucking dangerous.
"Is that all you can do?"
Luna's voice sounded distant.
Like she was standing miles away.
"And here I thought you could do more."
There was disappointment in her voice.
Actual disappointment.
Then she added:
"But I suppose even a granny could beat you."
James stared at her.
No.
Absolutely not.
There was no way she was still holding a grudge over that.
Petty as hell.
He groaned and forced himself upright.
Every muscle in his body felt like it was falling apart.
"You didn't have to go this hard."
He pushed himself forward again.
One hit.
He only needed one hit.
Just one.
Five minutes later...
James lay flat on his back.
His eyes stared up at the sky.
He was still in his werewolf form.
Barely.
His body looked mangled.
Arms bent at angles they had no business bending.
Several ribs were broken.
His spine was currently operating under a different interpretation of anatomy.
If he had been human, he would've died a hundred times over.
Werewolf durability was ridiculous.
At one point, his guts had literally been hanging out.
And somehow that hadn't even made the top five worst injuries he'd suffered today.
Apparently, werewolves could survive an absurd amount of damage.
Silver seemed to be the exception.
From everything he'd learned, a silver bullet did exactly what a normal bullet did to everyone else.
Luna stood a few feet away.
Completely unbothered.
Her silver hair was barely out of place.
She hadn't continued attacking him.
Instead, she crossed her arms and observed the aftermath.
She'd held back just enough not to knock him unconscious instantly.
But she'd hit hard enough to trigger every survival instinct in his body.
"I think you broke my back."
James groaned.
He tried to move.
Nothing happened.
"Pretty sure my spine is fucked."
Fuck.
"It's nothing major."
Luna sounded entirely unconcerned.
"You'll heal."
James had noticed that about werewolves.
They gave absolutely zero fucks about injuries.
As long as you weren't dead, everyone acted like everything was fine.
Broken bones?
Walk it off.
Missing organs?
You'll regenerate.
Spinal damage?
Apparently that qualified as a minor inconvenience.
Which was probably a mentality they developed after living for hundreds of years as practically immortal murder-machines.
If it wasn't silver or wolfsbane, they genuinely didn't seem to care.
Broken bones?
Whatever.
Missing organs?
Annoying.
Being impaled?
Walk it off.
Because they knew that shit would heal.
Werewolves were the undisputed kings of thugging that shit out.
"Didn't even take me out on a date yet and you're already breaking my back."
James immediately felt her stare.
Cold.
Judgmental.
Dangerous.
"Continue spouting that nonsense and I will break it for real."
James winced.
Jesus Christ, she was brutal.
A normal person probably would've shut up.
A normal person would've been terrified.
James, however, possessed a very useful werewolf ability.
He could smell emotions.
And right now?
He smelled absolutely no anger from Luna.
Annoyance?
Yes.
Embarrassment?
A little.
Actual rage?
None.
Which meant she probably would break his back.
But she probably wouldn't kill him.
Probably.
Noticing how calm he'd become, Luna decided to continue the lesson.
"Listen closely while your cells attempt to knit themselves back together."
Her voice cut through his heavy breathing.
"Werewolves possess a natural affinity for shadow and darkness magic. It is not a secondary tool. It is an extension of the beast's soul."
Once again, glowing runes appeared in the air.
Apparently Luna preferred writing PowerPoint presentations in midair instead of having normal conversations.
The first set of runes formed.
Presence Cloaking & Shadow Stepping
Submerging one's physical form into ambient shadows, erasing scent, sound, and visual presence before re-emerging from any connected darkness.
James's ears twitched.
That sounded cool as hell.
A second set appeared.
Umbral Construct Creation
Condensing darkness into physical weapons, shields, and barriers capable of inflicting both physical and spiritual damage.
That explained the sword trying to turn him into two separate people.
Then came the third.
Autonomous Shadow Minions
Separating fragments of one's own shadow and infusing them with predatory instinct to create autonomous constructs capable of independent combat.
"...You know you could just say all this, right?"
James pointed at the floating runes.
"The writing is cool and everything, but you can literally explain it."
"This is more efficient."
"I highly doubt that."
Luna ignored him.
"The fundamental property of darkness is absorption."
She stepped closer.
"It consumes. It swallows. It pulls all things toward itself."
James immediately paid attention.
"If you coat your fist in darkness, you are not merely adding magical force to your strike. You are creating a localized vacuum."
A diagram formed in the air.
"The shadow drags your opponent toward the point of impact, forcing continuous contact until the maximum threshold of your kinetic momentum has been discharged."
She looked directly at him.
"That is why my block required effort."
James blinked.
Okay.
That was actually badass.
Would've been nice to learn before getting turned into a crash-test dummy.
Luna paced around his mangled body.
"Furthermore, a true warrior does not rely solely on transformation."
She pointed at his chest.
"You can channel the raw power of your beast while remaining entirely within your human form."
James thought back to the crushing pressure he'd felt from her aura.
"You have already experienced my presence. That pressure is not psychological."
The runes shifted again.
"It is the beast's soul being compressed and weaponized."
Then she revealed three more techniques.
James's ears immediately perked up.
Umbral Armor Overclock
Coating the body in a microscopic layer of hyper-compressed darkness capable of neutralizing incoming physical and magical impacts.
Kinetic Essence Devouring
Absorbing the kinetic force of an enemy's attack and converting it into magical energy.
Spatial Shadow Anchoring
Pinning an opponent's shadow in place, immobilizing their physical body and preventing movement.
James stared.
Those weren't techniques.
Those were war crimes.
Luna suddenly stopped talking.
Her gaze drifted toward the sky.
A faint frown appeared on her face.
James blinked.
That was new.
"Something wrong?"
"No."
Her answer came instantly.
Then she glanced at the position of the sun.
Ah.
It was time.
She had promised her father something.
"Practice the skills I showed you."
James stared at her.
Practice?
Practice?
Taught my ass.
You spent the last half hour using me as a stress ball.
"I need to see my father."
Without another word, Luna turned.
In a single fluid motion, she disappeared down the mountain path.
The wind rustled behind her.
Then she was gone.
Silence returned.
It took James five full minutes to regenerate.
Five agonizing minutes of feeling every muscle, tendon, organ, and bone in his body stitch itself back together.
The experience sucked.
A lot.
Eventually, however, he stood up.
Fully healed.
He stretched experimentally.
Nothing hurt.
Which was honestly terrifying.
Then a thought occurred to him.
Don't werewolves get stronger when they survive near-death experiences?
That beating had to count for something.
There was no way getting folded into abstract art didn't qualify.
"Well, at least I got something out of it."
He rolled his shoulders.
The abilities Luna had shown him were insane.
Far more versatile than he'd originally assumed.
Especially the aura.
That one fascinated him.
Now that he knew it could be weaponized, his brain immediately started trying to break it.
"Could I infuse it into my shadows...?"
He paused.
Thinking.
If a small fragment of instinct could create shadow minions...
Even weak ones...
Then what happened if he infused something stronger?
Something denser?
Something closer to the actual beast?
Could he create something useful?
Something dangerous?
Something ridiculous?
James rubbed his chin.
"Caius probably knows."
Yeah.
That sounded like a Caius question.
The scout seemed to know damn near everything.
Decision made, James started walking.
Time to bother Caius.
A/N Vote with powerstones