I was Kidnapped for Revenge by a Ruthless Alpha Chapter 134: Training Pt 2

~ODETTE’S POV~

"Strength isn’t enough," I said firmly with a hint of mocking tone. "Without precision, you’ll always fall. Rember that."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

He was probably a real pain for his teachers.

Whatever.

The fourth was a small girl, with haired died green her roots showing through. Her fists trembling as she raised them. Her wide eyes flicked nervously between and the watching class. I admired her courage. Stepping forward despite her fear. That wasn’t easy.

I softened my stance, gave her space. She threw a hesitant jab. I blocked it gently, then tapped her open shoulder. She blinked, realizing the gap. Again, she jabbed, a little stronger. I blocked, tapped her exposed ribs.

She was trying her best. And I respected that.

We repeated the process until she grew braver, her movents sharper. When I finally eased her into a controlled hold and pinned her, she gasped. "I lost?"

"You learned, and that’s what’s important" I corrected softly, helping her up. "Plus, you also lasted longer than so." I shot the previous boy a mocking glare.

The class giggled.

Her smile was small, but it lit her whole face as she hurried back.

The fifth student with ginger colored hair and forest green eyes, shot forward like a firecracker, no hesitation, no plan. Just all action. He yelled like so wild animal, and he was throwing chaotic punches, his limbs in a whirlwind, laughing as if crazy alone could win.

I tried to restrain the laugh building inside . It was hard, at every turn it threatened to break through.

I wonder if that was his plan?

I let him chase a few steps, weaving around his wild swings, letting the others laugh with him. Then, timing his next move, I stepped in, caught both his wrists, and spun him neatly to the mat. He landed on his back, blinking at the ceiling before bursting out laughing.

"You’re quick!" he wheezed.

I grinned faintly, offering him a hand up. "And focused. Harness that energy aim it. Direct it. don’t act recklessly. You’re not a berserker."

He nodded eagerly, eyes shining. He wasn’t embarrassed, he was excited to practice this later with his friends, I could tell.

The sixth was older, broader, more serious. He had chocolate brown hair and bright blue eyes. He bowed with respect before raising his fists.

I liked him.

This fight was longer, harder, required more focus. His punches were clean, his stance solid, his eyes focused. I blocked, countered, let him press , then tested him with a faster strike. He absorbed it and ca at again.

Finally, I slipped past his guard and tapped his sternum, pushing him back a step.

He stood tall despite the loss, breathing hard. "Not good enough."

"Maybe not yet," I said, eting his eyes. "But pretty damn good."

I could see him suppressing the smile behind the masked discipline on his face.

The seventh was a cautious looking girl with clever grey eyes. She stumbled as if by accident, then snapped a kick at my shin.

A trick.

She must have learned that from Raven.

I glanced over to her, and the sneer coming from her told everything I needed to know.

She sure as shit did.

I caught the girl’s ankle easily, spun her lightly, and pushed her to the mat without malice. She sat up, lips pursed, but her eyes glead with mischief.

"Tricks are useful," I said, crouching down. "But you’ll only get one chance, maybe two. After that, your opponent won’t fall for it. just ask Raven."

She smirked. "Then I’ll just have to co up with better tricks."

I chuckled, shaking my head. I liked her fire. Was Raven like this with her friends?

The last student, she was watchful the whole session. Her eyes were steady, calculting.

When we clashed, I felt the difference imdiately. Her strikes weren’t flashy, but deliberate. Her guard was strong, her movents efficient. She didn’t waste breath, didn’t lose focus.

We exchanged blow for blow, neither giving ground easily. The others leaned forward, watching intently. Finally, I found the opening first moving high, then I sweep down low. Her feet went out from under her, and she hit the mat, rolling with the fall, then quickly sat up breathing hard. Clutching her chest.

But instead of sulking, she smiled faintly. "Thank you."

I tilted my head. "For what?"

"For treating us like real fighters."

The sincerity caught off guard. My throat tightened, and I simply nodded once.

By the end of the eighth sparring we had, sweat dripped my back and my blood and soul humd with satisfaction. The hall buzzed with chatter, the students replaying the matches in excitent.

I didn’t just have fun, but I earned my own money.

The instructor clapped, relief written on his face. "That will be all for today. Thank you, Miss Odette."

It was weird hearing a title in front of na that wasn’t princess.

I stood at the center of the mat, looking over their eager faces rembering my father’s words to . "Every fight is a lesson, not just in how to win, or avoid losing, but in how to learn. You lose; you try again. You stumble; you try again. Strength alone isn’t enough you need control, focus, and determination. Rember that."

Twenty wolf-shifter voices answered with a chorus of, "Yes, ma’am."

And for the first ti in a long ti, I felt the strange, steady satisfaction of not just fighting—but teaching.

As I left the mat, Raven leaned against the doorway, smug as ever. "I knew you’d eat them alive."

I rolled my eyes, though a small smile tugged at my lips. "Your taphors are going to get you killed one day."

"Maybe." She winked. "But you’ve got your Christmas money."

I exhaled, the tension sliding from my shoulders. But maybe because for one evening, I hadn’t just been fighting or training. I’d been teaching. I did sothing for myself. And watching those kids discover their own strength had lit sothing in I hadn’t realized I missed.