Chapter 65: Close Your Eyes And Listen

Chapter 65: Close Your Eyes And Listen

🌙𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐡

"What’s wrong?" Konstantin laughed. "Where’s that smart mouth now? Come on, tell me about my dick again! Say it!"

I tried to move. Tried to anticipate. But my body was screaming, my mind fragmenting under the barrage of pain and terror.

>"Kaia, please—"

>"You’re not listening! You’re just reacting—"

Konstantin wound up for another throw. But this one—this one he put his whole body into. I could see it in the way he planted his feet, the way his shoulder coiled back.

This one was going to break something.

Time slowed.

The ball left his hand like a missile.

Aimed straight at my ribs.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Could only watch it come and know—know—this was going to hurt in ways I couldn’t recover from.

Then—

A hand shot out and caught it.

Mid-air. Inches from my chest.

Dmitri.

He’d moved so fast I hadn’t even seen him leave his marker. Just suddenly there, between me and Konstantin, the ball gripped in his pale hand.

Silence.

Even Konstantin looked shocked.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Konstantin demanded. "Get out of the way!"

Dmitri didn’t move. His dark blue eyes—almost black—fixed on Konstantin with an intensity that made even the larger man hesitate.

"You are thirty years old," Dmitri said quietly, disgust twisting his words, "bullying a pupil."

"She insulted me!" Konstantin’s face flushed red. "She’s just a bloody hybrid anyway. The High Alpha bought the bitch. He can get more. She’s nothing. If he cared about a half-blood cunt, he wouldn’t have left her here—"

"And you got your compensation." Dmitri’s voice remained level. Calm. "Anything beyond this is just you being cruel because you can. You had your orders."

Konstantin’s jaw worked. "Move. Now. I might hate your cheating, weak gut, but we are both Lycans, so I will give you this chance. Step away from the half-blood bitch."

"No."

The word hung in the air.

Sylvanna had stopped throwing entirely now, watching the standoff with sharp interest.

"Dmitri," I croaked, my voice barely working. "You don’t have to—"

He glanced back at me. Just once. Those dark eyes holding mine for a heartbeat.

"Close your eyes," he said.

"What?"

"Close your eyes. Tune them out." He turned back to face Konstantin and Sylvanna. "Listen to the sound. The whistle of air. The impact. Feel it before it arrives."

"Dmitri, they’re going to—"

"I know." His voice was steady.

"Move, you wolfless freak!" Konstantin shouted.

Dmitri didn’t move.

Konstantin threw.

The ball hit Dmitri square in the back. He didn’t even flinch. Just stood there, taking it.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, horrified.

"Teaching you," he said simply. "Close your eyes, Lilith. Trust your wolf. Stop trying to see everything—just listen."

Another ball hit him—his shoulder this time. A grunt of pain escaped, but he didn’t move.

"Dmitri—"

"Close. Your. Eyes."

Sylvanna threw next—a calculated shot to his ribs. He shifted slightly, taking it better, but still taking it.

"Tune out their words," Dmitri continued, voice tight with pain now. "They want you afraid. Angry. Distracted. Don’t give them that power."

"This is insane!" Konstantin laughed. "You’re just letting us—"

"Listen," Dmitri cut him off, speaking only to me. "Hear the whistle? That’s Sylvanna. Fast, precise, consistent rhythm. Konstantin’s are louder—more force, less control. Hear the difference?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. Tried to block out Konstantin’s taunts, Sylvanna’s teasing, the pain radiating through every inch of my body.

Just... listen.

A ball flew past Dmitri and toward me.

I heard it—the sharp whistle cutting through air.

"Left," Kaia whispered.

I moved. It missed.

"Good," Dmitri said. Another impact hit him—his leg this time. I heard him inhale sharply. "Again. Don’t think. Feel."

Another whistle.

Right. Now.

I shifted. The ball grazed my hip instead of hitting dead center.

"Better." Another hit to Dmitri’s back. He coughed but kept talking. "The sound tells you speed. Direction. You have time. More than you think. Trust it."

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Konstantin roared.

"Make me," Dmitri replied calmly.

Three balls in quick succession hit him—back, leg, shoulder. He staggered but didn’t fall.

And through it all, he kept talking. Kept teaching me.

"Hear that? Sylvanna’s slowing down—testing your reaction time. She’s playing with you. Konstantin’s getting frustrated—throwing wild. Use that."

Another whistle.

Duck!

I dropped. The ball sailed over my head.

"Yes." Dmitri’s voice was strained now, rougher. "Just like that."

Finally—finally—I heard footsteps.

Dmitri was leaving. Walking back to his marker.

"Wait—" I started.

"You don’t need me anymore," he said quietly. "You have everything you need. Just listen."

And then he was gone. Back at his position.

I stood alone in the center of the arena.

Eyes closed.

Listening.

Konstantin threw immediately—trying to catch me off guard.

But I heard it. The angry whistle. Too much force, trajectory slightly off because of his rage.

"Right. Two steps."

I moved.

It missed completely.

Sylvanna’s came next, the air rippling the moment it left her hand, my ears perking up.

The hairs on my neck rose as I felt Konstantin begin to move. The balls would hit in quick succession.

But Kaia remained calm.

>"Twist left."

I did just that, moving in tandem with Kaia. Alone, I might not have known the choreography needed to dodge them, but I wouldn’t have had the quick reading or speed she lent. It was all coming together now.

The two balls swooshed past me, not making contact.

The flow of the rest of the test was easy. It truly was a dance, and each time I moved, another ball was thrown past me.

I heard the word bitch, but I tuned out all their words so well that it sounded distant. The teasing and taunting barely reached me.

Dmitri threw his ball, I detected it—but I didn’t move.

He hadn’t hurled it with enough force to hit me.

It landed a yard away from where I stood. I was able to predict the force now from the way it was tossed, calculating the distance it would land. Fear filtered away, replaced fully by awe and anticipation of the next hit.

Altogether, there had been eighteen balls—six from each of them.

When the last one whipped past my head, leaving my ear tingling from the adrenaline, I finally opened my eyes. My entire body was still shaking from the apprehension and the aftermath of the balls that had made their mark.

But it was over. Finally.