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As Titus retreats, I turn over in the bed.

“Wait.”

He pauses midstride and turns around.

“You’re a warrior. One of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“You’ve seen many warriors?”

“My father sometimes took me with him to the training center. He let me stay to watch his men spar. I longed to be as strong as they were. As fast with a weapon.”

“So, why didn’t he teach you?”

“My father … was a good man. With faults. He felt that a woman’s hand was no place for a weapon.”

“Sounds as if he prepared you well for this world.”

I don’t even want to think of how differently things might’ve been if he had. “In fairness, I don’t think he ever imagined they’d throw me to the wolves. He worked toward his rank to ensure that we’d live comfortably in Szolen. He’s probably rolling over in his grave right now.” Or not. Maybe he would tell me all these events were the consequences of my actions. My father wasn't always gentle with his honesty, either. “I want you to teach me.”

“Teach you what?” He crosses his arms over his chest, the muscles stretching his shirt at his biceps and serving as another reminder of his strength.

“How to fight.”

“What for?”

“What do you mean, what for? To defend myself.”

“Easy enough. Learn to run faster.”

“No. To wield a knife like you.”

His brows wing up. “You want to kill, then.”

“Sometimes, killing is necessary in defense, isn’t it? And it will be good for me, in case we run into Remus again on the way to Szolen.”

“Talking of which, by my estimates, we should be on the road tomorrow.”

“We can stay here, just a couple more days, so you can show me how to use the knife.” At his frown, I continue, “The other day, with the Ragers … and my time spent with Remus …. I feel very vulnerable. It’s terrifying, to be unable to defend myself. I want to learn.”

Jaw shifting, as if chewing on the request, he stares off. “If that’s what you want. I can teach you.”

“It’s what I want. When can we begin?”

“When you’re no longer in pain.”

“Then, we begin today.”

“You need time to heal. Training to fight is very physical.”

Time to heal will only throw me into a state of self-loathing and blame, and that’s not me. Mentally, I’m a fighter. It’s time to become one physically, as well. “All I’ve done for the last few days is lie here thinking about how differently things could’ve been.”

“Don’t condemn yourself to that thought. It might not have been different.”

No. He’s wrong. I have no doubt so many things would be different if I’d had the ability to defend myself. “I’ll condemn myself every day that I remain weak and unable to fight.”

* * *

In a clearing behind the house, Titus points to a spot ten yards directly in front of a tree. “Stand there.”