The Professor's Mate Clause novel Chapter 48

CHAPTER 48

FREYA’S POV

“Again.”

I am flat on my back for the third time in ten minutes. My lungs are burning. Every muscle screams. Sweat drips into my eyes.

Adrian stands over me. Not even winded. “Get up. We do not have time for breaks.”

“I need a second.” I gasp out. “Just one second.”

“The enemies at the steel mill will not give you a second. They will kill you while you are catching your breath. His voice is harsh. Cold. Nothing like the man who held me this morning. “Now get up.

I force myself to my feet. My legs shake. The training mat is slick with my sweat. We have been at this for two hours straight and he has not let up once.

“Defensive stance.” He circles me. “Show me what I taught you.”

I position myself. Feet apart. Hands up. Center of gravity low.

He moves so fast. One second he is across from me. The next his fist is coming at my face. I block. Barely. The impact sends shock waves up my arm.

“Better. But too slow.” He attacks again. Low this time. Sweeping my legs.

I jump. Not high enough. His leg catches my ankle. I go down hard. My shoulder hits the mat. Pain explodes through me.

“You are telegraphing your moves. I can see everything you are going to do before you do it.” He does not help m up this time. Just stands there. “You will get yourself killed fighting like this.”

“Then teach me better.” Anger flares hot in my chest. “Stop criticizing and actually teach me.”

Something flashes in his eyes. Not anger. Satisfaction maybe. “There she is. That fire. Use it. Channel it.”

He comes at me again. Faster. Harder. No mercy.

This time I do not just defend. I attack back. My fist aims for his ribs. He blocks. I switch targets. Go for his face. ! dodges. But I am faster this time. My leg sweeps behind his knee. He stumbles. Just a little. Just enough.

“Good.” He grabs my wrist. Uses my momentum against me. Flips me. I am on my back again but this time I rol Come up on my feet. “Very good.”

We go again. And again. Over and over until I lose count of how many times I hit the mat. How many times he knocks me down.

But I keep getting up. Keep fighting. Keep pushing.

“Break.” He finally says. Tosses me a water bottle. “Five minutes.”

ollapse against the wall. Chug half the bottle. My hands are shaking so badly water spills down my chin.

Adr

`s next to me. Close but not touching. “You are improving. Faster than I expected.”

“Does not

‘ike improvement. Feels like getting beat up.”

“That is what training is. Controlled violence. Learning to take hits and keep going.” He drinks from his own bottle. “Tomorrow night you will face real violence. Real enemies. I need to know you can survive it.”

“I can survive it.”

“Can you?” He looks at me. Really looks at me. “Can you take a life if you have to? Can you watch people die? Can you handle what war actually is?”

The questions make my stomach twist. “I do not know. But I will find out tomorrow night.”

“That is not good enough. I need you certain. Need to know you will not freeze when things get bloody ” His jav clenches. “Because if you freeze you die. And if you die I lose everything.”

The raw honesty in his voice cuts through my exhaustion. “I will not freeze. I promise.”

“You cannot promise that. No one can until they are in that moment.” He stands. Offers his hand. “Which is why we keep training. Keep pushing. Keep preparing. So when that moment comes your body knows what to do even your mind does not.”

I take his hand. Let him pull me up. My legs barely hold me.

“One more round.” He moves back to the center of the mat. “Then we work on weapons.”

“Weapons?” I did not know weapons were part of this.

“You think everyone fights fair? Uses just fists and claws?” He walks to the wall. Opens a cabinet. Inside are knives. Guns. Things I cannot even name. “Tomorrow night there will be weapons. You need to know how to use them. How to defend against them.”

He pulls out two knives. Hands me one. The weight is strange in my palm. Cold. Deadly.

“First rule. Never hesitate. If you pull a weapon you use it. No second guessing. No mercy.” His eyes are hard. ” you do that?”

“I can do that.”

“Prove it.” He takes a fighting stance. Knife ready. “Come at me like you mean it.”

I hesitate. This is different from hand to hand. This is sharp. Dangerous. One wrong move and someone gets h “Freya. Attack me. Now.”

I move. Clumsy. Uncertain. He disarms me in seconds. The knife clatters to the floor.

“Again. With conviction this time.”

We go through it over and over. Each time I am a little faster. A little more confident. But still not enough. “You are holding back.” He grabs my wrist. Positions the knife properly. “Stop thinking about hurting me. S thinking about surviving. About protecting yourself. About doing whatever it takes.”

His hand covers mine. Guides the knife through the proper motions. Slash. Stab. Block. The movements bec

“scle memory.

“Be

I run throu

He steps back. “Now do it alone.”

extension of

he sequence. My body follows the pattern he taught. The knife feels less foreign now. More

+25 PC

“Good. Now against an actual opponent.” He picks up his own knife. “Attack me for real this time. No holding back.”

“Adrian I could actually hurt you.”

“You will not. But you need to try. Need to stop seeing me as someone you care about and start seeing me as the enemy.” His expression goes cold. Distant. “Now attack.”

Something in his tone flips a switch. My body moves before my brain catches up. I lunge. He blocks. A spin. Slash at his side. He dodges. Barely.

We dance across the mat. Knives flashing. Neither of us landing hits but both of us trying. Really trying.

Then I see an opening. His left side. Just for a second. I do not think. Just react. My knife aims for his ribs.

He blocks. But not fast enough. The blade catches his arm. Slices through his shirt. Through skin.

Blood wells up. Bright red.

I freeze. Drop the knife. “Oh god. Adrian I am so sorry. I did not mean to…”

“That was perfect.” He looks at his arm. At the shallow cut. “You saw an opening and took it. No hesitation. Exactly what you needed to do.”

“But you are bleeding.”

“It is already healing. Watch.” And it is. The cut is closing. Knitting back together. Within seconds only blood remains. No wound. “See? I am fine. You did exactly what I asked.”

I stare at the blood on his arm. At the knife on the floor. At what I just did.

I hurt him. Actually hurt him. And he is proud of me for it.

“Come here.” He pulls me against him. “You did good. Really good. You are ready for tomorrow night.”

“I do not feel ready. I feel terrified.”

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