CHAPTER 118: LESSONS WITH URSULA

~ODETTE’S POV~

He smirked "Yes, that’s your punishment."

I couldn’t believe he did that to me.

"You suck, jerk." I was left hanging. High and dry. Practically ’blue balled’ as boys like to say.

"Jerk, that’s a new one." He chuckled grabbing a pair of flannel styled pajama sweatpants from the closet. And walked into the bathroom.

That turd. I can’t believe him.

I threw myself back in the bed, dramatically with a big huff.

I felt humiliated and horny. I reach my hand out bringing the remote to me from the other end of the room and rolled to the side, continuing to scroll the streaming channels and decided on The Munsters. I laid my head down and closed my eyes, willing the burning in my core to go away. And slowly it did.

Phera hopped up on the bed and curled up at my stomach next time.

"And where have you been?" I asked it.

She looked at me and blinked her eyes, yawning. Before laying her head back down and falling asleep.

Having her near helped relieve the ache that had started building inside my core.

Sleep found me before Ambrose returned from the shower.

I woke the following day excited to do something, get back to my studies. My training. To feel a sense of normalcy.

I quickly moved to get ready. Ambrose was already gone. He left a note though:

"Good morning, I had to leave early, I’ll be in meetings all day, but I’ll make time to share lunch with you. Work hard today. Your coffee and a muffin are waiting for you on the table. -Ambrose"

A smile settled on my cheeks; his words and kind gesture warmed my heart.

Today was going to be a good day. I could feel it.

I sped through my morning routine, burning with edge and excitement. Picking out a pair of warm, fleece lined, black leggings, a black sweater with a red rose pattern etched in the front, with thorny vines that adorned the sleeves.

I heard knocking on the door and when I opened it a guard had a letter in hand.

"From Ursula BlackBay." He handed me the letter and left.

"Training field 10 minutes. Don’t be late."

Ursula was standing at the center of the clearing, tall and solid, her ginger hair waved in the cool winter breeze, her posture was that of someone who had spent years learning truths and facing realities. She was strong and I couldn’t help but appreciate her.

She didn’t bother with pleasantries

"Magic can carry you far, Odette," she said, her tone calm but edged with something sharper beneath, "but wolves don’t live and die by spells. They live by instinct, by body, by blood. That’s what I’m going to teach you."

I nodded. "Then let’s start."

Ursula’s lips curved faintly. Approval.

"Good. First lesson: biology. Our bodies are built differently from humans. Our bones denser, our muscles tighter, fibers stronger. A wolf shifter at rest is already faster and stronger than mortals at their peak. Add the shift, and you have claws, fangs, and the instincts of a predator. But none of it means anything if you don’t understand how to use it."

She circled me slowly, like a wolf testing its opponent. I felt her gaze dissecting me.

"You already have strength," she continued. "Speed. Reflexes. But your body doesn’t always listen to your instincts. Does it? That’s what separates you from us."

I wanted to roll my eyes at that. My instincts had saved me more than once. But I stayed silent, letting her words settle.

Ursula dropped suddenly into a crouch, hand pressing into the soil. "Shifters are tied to more than their bodies. We are tied to our wolves. They are us. Even as a separate entity, they are us. As much a part of us as they are their own being."

Her eyes flicked up to me, bright, wild.

"You, Odette, may not have a wolf. But you have power that sings with hunger. Your magic listens to your emotions the way a wolf listens to instinct. You don’t master it by chaining it, you master it by knowing when to surrender to it."

Her words echoed in me. I thought of my 16th birthday and all the other times my telekinesis had lashed out when I was angry, when my chest was too tight with rage or fear. Magic, wolf, it all came from the same place. The soul.

"Now, second lesson: physical attributes. What a wolf can do with its body." Ursula asked

She moved before I could blink.

She was fast, faster than I expected.

One moment she was ten feet away, the next her palm was at my throat, just a whisper of pressure.

"Speed," she said simply, releasing me.

She turned, snatched a stone from the ground, and crushed it in her fist until it powdered.

"Strength."

Then she leapt backward, high enough that her feet cleared a low branch. She landed without a sound, balance perfect.

"Agility. Reflex. Control."

I stared, pulse racing. Her movements weren’t magic. They were just her. Raw and practiced.

And it was beautiful.

"Your strength will rival ours," Ursula said, her voice softer now. "But you need discipline. A wolf doesn’t waste a strike. Every motion counts."

I held back a snort. Discipline. Has she met my father? I lived my entire life under the thumb of ’discipline’.

She tilted her head and looked at me. Almost like she was reading my mind, watching me question her.

"Tell me, Odette, when you fight, what do you feel first? Fear? Rage? The urge to win? Or the pull to survive?"

I hesitated. I thought of how my power flared brightest when I was furious or desperate. "I feel... pressure. A need to break through. To push until nothing is in my way."

Ursula nodded once, as if that confirmed something for her. "Then we’ll start there."

Something stirred in me at her words. For the first time, I wasn’t just thinking about power, or control, or even victory. I was thinking about instinct. About listening to what lived deep beneath my skin. When she interrupted my thinking.

"Follow me to my study."

I nodded and followed her from the outside training field to back inside the palace.

We walked in a soothing silence through the winding halls together.

Ursula’s study smelled faintly of old paper and herbs.

She sat across from me at a heavy oak desk, as she flipped open a thick, hand written journal.

"Here," she began, her voice carrying the weight of years as teacher and survivor, "we’re not talking about claws or speed. We’re talking about what makes a shifter a shifter, their biology."

I leaned forward, curious.

"First," Ursula said, tapping the sketch of a human skeleton on one page, then the sketch of a wolf shifter’s skeleton on the next. "A shifter’s body is built to hold two forms. The human form and the wolf form. But they are not separate bodies, it’s one body, one vessel, with overlapping traits. For example, their bone density is nearly double that of a human’s, even when not shifted. This is why shifters can survive falls and impacts that would break mortals in half."

She turned the page to show muscle structure. "Muscles are different, too. More elastic, more fibrous. That’s why a wolf in human skin still runs faster and fights harder than any human could. The shift doesn’t give them speed; it amplifies what’s already there."

I nodded slowly, taking it all in. It reminded me of how my vampire strength was constant, whether or not I called on my abilities.

Ursula’s expression softened, as if she’d read my thoughts. "Your kind and ours are not so different in that regard. But the greatest difference is not in muscle or bone. It is in the wolf."

Her hand stilled on the open page, where an ink sketch of a wolf’s golden eyes stared back at me.

Golden eyes that reminded me of Ambrose.

"The wolf is not a parasite. It is a second soul. It is the primal self. Shifters who ignore their wolves grow sick. Unstable. Because they are silencing a part of themselves."

I thought of my own powers, how volatile they became when I tried too hard to cage them. The idea resonated in a way I hadn’t expected.

Ursula leaned back, folding her arms. "When a shifter connects to their wolf, they gain more than claws and teeth. They gain heightened senses, instincts that warn them of danger before it strikes, and a bond with their pack that runs deeper than blood. Though fated mates are rare, a shifter can feel their mate, fated or chosen as well as a packmate’s emotions through that connection, joy, fear, pain. This is biology, yes, but also spirit. One cannot exist without the other."

Her gaze found mine, sharp but not harsh, "You may not have a wolf, Odette. But you have power that listens the same way a wolf does. If you wish to understand yourself, you must first understand them. That is why you’re here. Not just to learn about us shifters, but to learn from what we can do. Learn from what I will teach you."

She paused and then finished with, "You well become better by incorporating what it means to have a wolf into your own abilities." She smiled with a sense of pride brightening her eyes.

I swallowed, staring down at the sketches. For the first time, I wasn’t just memorizing facts. I was trying to imagine what it might feel like, to have a second heartbeat inside you, whispering into your blood.

Ursula closed the book with a decisive snap. "Enough for today. Tomorrow, we’ll study the psychology of the wolf, dominance, submission, and what it means to belong to a pack. That, I think, will interest you even more."

And though I’d never admit it out loud, she was right