Page 37 of Seas the Day
A burly enforcer she didn’t recognize raised his hand. “What makes you think pool drills will help against a crocodile shifter and his sea creature allies?”
Fair question. Direct challenge. Exactly what she’d expected.
“Because water doesn’t lie,” Navira replied, meeting his gaze steadily. “In the pool, you can’t hide weakness or fake strength. Every movement either serves your survival or works against it. The techniques I’m going to teach you will make the difference between controlled precision and desperate thrashing when you’re fighting for your life.”
She began dividing them into groups, calling out names that Sylar provided her, with the authority of someone who’d commanded respect from Olympic-level athletes. The twentywho knew her fell into formation immediately, their confidence infectious enough to pull some of the skeptics along.
“Each circuit lasts ten minutes,” she announced, pulling her t-shirt over her head to reveal the sleek black swimsuit that showcased her athletic build. Several enforcers’ eyes lingered appreciatively, but she ignored the attention. “We rotate continuously for the next two hours. No breaks. No excuses.”
“Two hours?” someone muttered. “That’s brutal.”
“Graven won’t give you a timeout to catch your breath,” Navira shot back, diving cleanly into the pool to demonstrate the first drill.
Her body sliced through the water with the precision that had once made her untouchable in competition, every stroke a masterclass in efficiency. When she completed her lap, the murmurs had shifted from skeptical to impressed.
Then the training began in earnest. Navira pushed them through underwater sprints that tested lung capacity, combat rolls that built core strength, and precision drills that demanded split-second timing. Her voice carried across the facility with unwavering authority, correcting form, pushing limits, refusing to accept anything less than their absolute best.
The pool deck became a symphony of controlled chaos. Bodies moved through the water with increasing grace, muscles burned under demanding exercises, and gradually—grudgingly—respect began replacing skepticism in the eyes watching her.
But not in all of them.
Sylar moved through his assistant duties with mechanical efficiency, setting up equipment and organizing rotations as requested. But Navira’s enhanced hearing, honed through years of underwater training where sound could mean the difference between winning and losing, caught his muttered commentary.
“Thalric’s blinded by the mate bond. Making choices that’ll get us all killed. A human female leading us? Ridiculous.”
“She’s got him wrapped around her finger, and she won’t even complete the bond. What kind of mate is that?”
Each comment stung, not because they were entirely wrong, but because they contained enough truth to make her question herself. She was asking these warriors to trust her with their lives while she couldn’t commit fully to their Alpha. The incomplete bond hung between her and Thalric like a barrier, visible to everyone.
Focus,she commanded herself, diving into the pool to demonstrate a combat technique that required perfect timing.Prove yourself first. Sort out the bond later.
As the first hour passed, the transformation became undeniable. Bodies that had moved with raw power began displaying refined precision. Enforcers who’d struggled with underwater maneuvers started executing them flawlessly. The twenty who’d trained with her yesterday pushed the others to match their improved performance, creating a competitive atmosphere that elevated everyone.
“How did she know I could move like that?”
“These techniques... they’re actually working.”
“I feel stronger already.”
The compliments began filtering through the group as they rotated through circuits. Warriors who’d entered with skepticism found themselves grudgingly admitting that her methods produced results. Navira felt the familiar rush of coaching success—that moment when doubt transformed into trust, when athletes realized they were capable of more than they’d believed possible.
But Sylar’s commentary continued, a constant undercurrent of discontent that she couldn’t entirely block out.
“Mark my words, this ends badly. Alpha’s making emotional decisions instead of strategic ones.”
TWENTY-SIX
NAVIRA
As the second hour unfolded, exhaustion started showing in faces that had begun the session cocky and dismissive. But alongside the fatigue came something else—a sharpened focus, a precision of movement that spoke of warriors being forged rather than simply trained.
During the final rotation, Navira pushed them through a complex sequence that combined underwater combat rolls with explosive surface attacks. It was demanding, technical, and absolutely crucial for fighting the kind of aquatic enemies Graven commanded.
“Luna really knows her stuff,” she heard one enforcer murmur to another as they executed the drill.
Luna.
The word sent an unexpected jolt through her chest, resonating in places she didn’t fully understand. Something about the title felt... right. Important. Like an identity she’d been searching for without knowing it existed.
