Chapter 535

Olivia

The week and a half that followed was a whirlwind of intense training. Each day, Freya would guide me through various rituals and exercises, pushing me to tap into the ancient power that lay dormant in my blood.

On the first day, we began with simple exercises—or rather, I would soon come to learn how simple they truly were.

But at first, they felt like hell.

“Three hours?” I asked incredulously when Freya told me how long I would be meditating for on my very first day.

“I know it seems like a lot,” Freya explained. “But in this short amount of time, it’s the only way to begin tapping into your powers.”

I sighed. Freya was right; with our plan to take down Dan and the sex trafficking ring coming closer and closer, we didn’t have much time.

At first, it was a struggle. I meditated for hours, my brow furrowed in concentration as I tried to connect with the primal energy that Freya kept insisting was flowing through me. On that first day, I barely made it through an hour before I felt like I was losing my mind.

“Go to the place where your wolf resides,” Freya said as she sat beside me in her own meditation, not even opening her eyes. “Speak with your wolf. Sit with her. Learn from her. The time will pass before you know it.”

And I did just that. For the next three days, twice a day, I would spend hours in the mental landscape where my wolf resided—the mental version of the Ancient Wolf clearing, where I had only visited before in my sleep.

More often than not, I would emerge from these sessions feeling drained and frustrated, with little to show for my efforts. But Freya was patient, and her guidance was unwavering.

“The Ancient Wolf is a force of nature,” she would say, her voice resonating in my mind even clearer than if she had spoken the words out loud. “You cannot simply command it to reveal itself. You must coax it out, like coaxing a shy creature from its den.”

And so, I persisted, driven by a burning determination to harness this power—not just for myself, but for the sake of my pack, my family, and all of the people who had suffered at the hands of Dan and his cohorts.

Slowly, gradually, I began to feel the stirrings of something ancient and powerful, awakening deep inside of me. It was like the smallest spark, flickering faintly at first, but growing brighter and hotter with each passing day.

And soon, that spark turned into a flame.

When that happened, it felt as if a dam had burst. I still remember the way my eyes suddenly shot open mid-meditation, the way that my limbs felt lighter than feathers, and the way that my irises were the brightest blue I had ever seen as my reflection met me in the mirror.

I had unleashed my energy.

“Now that you have tapped into your energy,” Freya said, “it’s time to learn about your powers.”

The first ability I mastered was what Freya called ‘the Suggestion.’ It manifested as a subtle, yet commanding tone in my voice, one that could bend the will of those around me to my own desires.

I realized that this was the ability I had used before, specifically during the Redclaw attack. The way that I had used it before was primitive, though, and I quickly learned that I had used it entirely wrong.

“It is not a command,” Freya explained. “It is a suggestion. You don’t want to scream or yell; rather, you want to gently prod those who you wish to control. Make them think that it’s their idea. Use a soft voice, like a feather.”

“And most importantly, you must be careful with this power,” Freya warned as I practiced on her. “To control another’s mind, even temporarily, is a grave responsibility.”

I nodded, sweat beading on my brow as I focused my energy. Then, I tried to command—no, suggest. “Freya, you want to sit in that chair over there,” I said softly.

Freya’s eyes glazed over in that moment, and she nodded slowly, her expression suddenly going blank. Without a word she simply stood from where we sat cross-legged on the floor, crossed over to the chair by the window, and sat down obediently.

I felt my head spinning then at the exertion of my first power, quickly and clumsily releasing her from my thrall. Freya explained that my power was finite, and that using my abilities would drain that power.

Next came the ability to project powerful shockwaves of force, an invisible energy that could send even the mightiest of foes hurtling backwards. Once again, I realized that I had used this power a couple of times before; and, yet again, the way I had used it had been primitive and sloppy.

Freya led me to a secluded clearing, where she had set up a series of training dummies fashioned from logs and straw. “Channel your energy,” she instructed. “Feel it coming from the earth. Let it build within you, until you feel as though you might explode.”

I closed my eyes, drawing in deep, steadying breaths. I imagined that the earth’s power was absorbing through my feet, coursing up my legs and through my torso, wrapping itself around my heart and coiling its way through my throat. I felt the energy swirling and coalescing inside of me.

And then, with a sharp exhalation, I thrust my hands forward, my fingers splayed wide. At first, the stream was small; barely enough to even nudge one of the dummies.

But I kept training deep into the night. Hours, even days later, it finally happened. With sweat beading my brow and a strained grunt, I thrust my hands forward.

A concussive blast of energy erupted from my palms, a shimmering wave of power that slammed into the dummies, reducing them to scattered debris. I fell to my knees, panting, my fingers curling into the soil.

When I finally looked back up, still panting, I saw that Freya was nodding in approval with a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well done, child. But remember, each use of your power drains you. You cannot rely on brute force alone.”

Her words rang true, because that shockwave had left me feeling drained, my limbs heavy and my head pounding.

Finally, we delved into the last of the three main abilities: the art of telekinesis, the ability to manipulate objects with nothing more than the power of my mind. This was by far the most challenging aspect of my training, as it required an immense level of focus and control.

We started small, with pebbles and twigs, Freya guiding me through various visualization techniques as I struggled to exert my will over the inanimate objects.

“Clear your mind,” she murmured. “See the object not as it is, but as you wish it to be.”

Slowly, painstakingly, I began to make progress. First, a single pebble would twitch, rolling across the ground as if nudged by an unseen force. Then, a twig would lift, trembling in the air before clattering back to the earth.

With each small victory, my confidence grew, until finally, I was able to effortlessly levitate and manipulate objects of increasing size and weight. Once again, like the shockwave and the suggestion, these movements often left me feeling drained.

But I quickly learned how to ration my power, allowing me to use more abilities in one go. Soon, I was able to use several abilities in a short time without getting too lightheaded or weak.

“You have come a long way, Olivia,” Freya said one day as I sat cross-legged, a ring of rocks and branches floating serenely around me. “But there is one final test you must face.”

I opened my eyes, letting the objects gently settle back to the ground. “What is it?”

Freya’s expression was solemn. She said nothing, but merely gestured toward the trees. Then, a familiar figure stepped out, shirtless, his muscles glistening in the sunlight.

“Nathan,” I called out, standing. “What are you doing here?”

But Nathan didn’t answer. He just stood there, a look of what seemed like a combination of worry, pride, and stoicism in his eyes. In that moment, I knew what my last test would be before Freya even said it.

“Olivia,” Freya said, “as your final test, you must fight Nathan using your powers.”