30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

-Alison-

Jared shook his head at me as I assumed the stance he had shown me, but apparently, it wasn't exactly as he desired. He walked up to me, adjusting my grip on the gun after turning me slightly. I was nervous about handling the weapon, and it showed.

Nonetheless, he persisted in teaching me even after the week of bedrest had concluded. During that time, our interactions were minimal. In some ways, I still harbored anger toward him, exacerbated by his increasing preoccupation with dismantling the wolves' operations, often accompanied by Astrid. I couldn't shake the suspicion that her potential to bear him a child might sway his loyalty, fueling a simmering resentment each time he returned to our room.

For days, I stewed in that anger, refusing to even meet his gaze upon his return. He allowed me to grapple with my feelings in solitude, only ensuring that I ate before holding me close as we slept. I came to realize that without his embrace, sleep would elude me, hinting at a deeper connection between us.

Perhaps that realization was why my posture remained poor as we stood outside, Jared having improvised a shooting range. Despite his repeated corrections, I struggled to maintain the desired position, much to his frustration.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" he accused.

"No," I murmured, though I couldn't deny the possibility that on some subconscious level, I was. I disliked firearms, and at that moment, I didn't particularly like him either—an unfavorable combination when attempting to learn something crucial.

Jared approached me once more, his hands firmly on my hips, ensuring I remained in the correct stance. This time, he refused to release me, determined to prevent me from deviating from the position he had placed me in. As he leaned in to remind me of the recoil, his warm breath brushed against my neck, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

I swallowed hard, attempting to refocus, but as he instructed me to fire, I found myself unable to comply. All I could concentrate on was the rhythmic sound of his breathing in my ear, causing me to blink rapidly and lose sight of the target ahead.

"C-Could you give me some space?" I questioned.

"No, you're refusing to listen to me," he stated.

"Jared, I can't fire like this."

"Yes, you can," he insisted.

I took a deep breath, but my head was spinning from his touch. Now that most of my strength had returned and my body was properly nourished, I felt acutely aware of his touch.

"Jared, I really can't," I murmured.

"Because you aren't concentrating," he hissed.

"Oh, I'm concentrated. Just not on firing," I snapped, gritting my teeth.

He seemed to take a moment to decipher my meaning before a small huff of amusement escaped him.

"I see," he said. "And here I thought you were still angry with me."

"I am," I stated.

His hands moved to the front of my body as his nose dipped into the crook of my neck. "But you desire me more," he murmured.

That, I couldn't deny. It didn't help that he had adamantly refused to remove the purple collar, a constant reminder of his ownership of me. Nevertheless, Jared possessed the ability to switch between playful banter and serious instruction seamlessly. After teasing me for a few moments, he withdrew, careful not to make physical contact.

"Okay, focus this time," he instructed firmly.

I nodded, acknowledging there was no escaping this training. I followed his commands, firing when he instructed me to. Despite bracing myself for the recoil, the sound and sensation still jolted me. My shot missed the target Jared had set up on a nearby tree by a significant margin, and I couldn't even be certain if the bullet hit anything. Disheartened, I took a step back, shaking my head, and attempted to hand the weapon back to him.

"Okay, enough training," I stated.

"That was just one shot," he said.

"I don't care!"

"Alison," he snapped, giving me a look one might direct at a child who wasn't listening.

I let out a frustrated groan, feeling irked at being scolded like a four-year-old. Nevertheless, I redirected my attention to the target once more, and Jared approached to correct my stance. His touch was reassuring, but he didn't linger, granting me the space to maintain my focus on the task at hand.

Stepping back, he allowed me to fire. With each shot, my resolve grew, although my heart raced with every pull of the trigger. Yet as I neared the end of the magazine, I finally hit the corner of the target Jared had set up.

"Oh, I hit it," I murmured, surprised by my success.

He nodded, though pride wasn't exactly evident in his expression, considering how many attempts it took. I fired the last few bullets, each finding its place on the edges of the target before the gun fell silent, signaling the need for more bullets. I finally handed the weapon back to Jared, but to my surprise, he reloaded it and handed it back to me.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I exclaimed.

"No," he replied.

"But when do we stop? My hands are shaking!" I protested, displaying my lightly trembling hands.

"When you stop being afraid of firing," he asserted.

"But that might take hours!" I snarled.

"Then we're here for hours," he stated firmly.

"Jared—"

I didn't get to finish my sentence as he stepped up to me, his presence silencing me as his intense gaze locked onto mine.

"Alison, I wish I could shield you from all dangers. I'll do my utmost to ensure you never have to fire a weapon at a person, but I won't delude myself into thinking I control this world and everyone in it. You need to know how to defend yourself in case it comes down to you and someone else. I don't want to find you bleeding and dead on the ground because you couldn't fire a weapon. This world isn't for the fainthearted. If I could have kept you out of it, I would have. But here we are, at war. So either you find that courage I know you have inside you, steady your hands, or we stay out here for hours."

His words stunned me, but in their truth, I found a stirring determination. I had already been captured once due to his delayed arrival. Aware that he wouldn't always be by my side, I needed to prove I could handle myself.

"O-Okay," I stammered, taking the gun once more and steadying my grip.

Jared nodded approvingly and guided me through another round of practice. Though my second attempt wasn't much better, I began to feel a growing sense of confidence, with less trembling and sharper focus. While the target still bore only a few punctures, each shot instilled me with a deeper calm, preparing me for the next command.

We lingered outside for quite some time, but as I lowered the now-empty gun with newfound assurance, Jared didn't push for another round. Instead, he simply extended his hand, and I willingly surrendered the weapon.

"Good. We'll practice again tomorrow," he said.

"Again?" I questioned.

"Yes."

"Until?"

"Until you hit the middle," he replied, gesturing to the untouched center of the target.

"Well, technically, if that were a person, with all those holes around and some above the target, I could have technically hit them," I argued, seeing an amused smile on Jared's lips as he reloaded the gun, then swapped our places. With a single shot, he hit the middle with complete confidence. He turned to me, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"Show off," I murmured, crossing my arms as he clicked on the safety.

"All right, let's practice a few self-defense techniques," he suggested.

"Now?" I asked.

"Yes, now."

"You do realize the week has just ended, right?"

"Are you tired?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"No, not really," I replied.

"Then we practice."

I groaned, leaning my head back. "It was so much easier pretending my life was perfect," I murmured.

"You really want to go back to that? The pretending?" he inquired.

I sighed, shaking my head. I wasn't particularly interested in it.

"That's what I thought. Let's go."

We made our way inside, Jared guiding me to an indoor gym. Though not expansive, it housed various equipment along with a blue mat, perfectly suited for us to stand facing each other.