The training ground was silent, except for the steady rhythm of feet pounding against dirt and the clash of weapons striking against wood. Morning light cut through the fog like a blade, bathing the field in a golden haze. Aria stood at the center, breath steaming in the crisp air, hands wrapped tight around the hilt of a wooden sword.
Lina circled her with a gleam in her eye. "Don't think. React."
The next blow came fast—too fast. Aria barely raised her sword in time. The force of the strike rattled through her arms.
"Good," Lina said, already moving. "Again."
Another strike.
Another block.
Aria's legs trembled beneath her, but she didn't falter. Not today.
From the sidelines, Kael watched.
She wasn't the same girl who arrived here weeks ago—frightened, silent, haunted. That Aria had hidden behind her muteness like armor. This Aria moved with fire in her veins. She stumbled, yes. But she rose quicker than anyone he'd ever seen.
"She's ready," Toben said beside him, arms crossed.
Kael glanced at him.
"Not to win," Toben clarified. "But to survive."
Kael's jaw tensed. "I'm not looking for survival. I want her to be untouchable."
Toben raised a brow. "You want revenge."
Kael didn't answer.
Because maybe he did.
Not just for Aria.
But for the way Ronan defiled the idea of Alpha. Of pack. Of love.
After training, Aria limped toward the bathhouse, muscles tired from the intense training. She soaked in warm water, eyes closed, letting the heat melt the ache from her bones. Her thoughts drifted to Kael how his eyes lingered when he thought she wasn't looking, how his voice softened when he spoke to her.
She didn't know what to make of it.
Kael was kind but not weak. Gentle but not passive. He never asked her to speak. Never pitied her silence.
But a part of her feared needing him too much.
Because she'd once needed someone—and he'd crushed her.
Later, in the war room, Kael studied the map of the surrounding territories, fingers tracing the edge of Ronan's pack borders. Sera entered, tossing a folder on the table.
"Scouts picked up movement."
Kael opened the file. Several photos paper-clipped together. Burned trees. Torn carcasses. A wolf's pawprint, blackened and too large for any normal shifter.
"What is he doing?" Kael muttered.
"Testing us," Sera said. "Reminding us he's out there."
"He's taunting her."
"She's not rattled," Sera said. "If anything, she's… burning hotter."
Kael looked at her sharply. "She's not a weapon."
"No," Sera agreed. "But she's becoming one."
That night, the pack gathered for the full moon run a tradition among shifters. Even during war. Especially during war. It was a reminder: we are alive. We are wolves.
Aria hesitated at the tree line, the cool wind tugging at her cloak.
Kael approached from behind.
"You don't have to," he said quietly.
She turned to him.
I want to.
He nodded once, then stepped away to give her space.
Aria closed her eyes, let the pull of the moon wash over her and shifted.
Her wolf was smaller than most. White as snow. Silent. But there was power in her quietness. A coiled strength in the way she moved.
When she emerged from the trees, the other wolves slowed, letting her pass through their ranks.
Not out of pity.
But respect.
She loped toward Kael's dark gray wolf, massive and scarred and nipped gently at his shoulder.
He huffed, then took off into the woods.
Together, they ran.
Miles away, Ronan stood atop a cliff, watching the distant hills light with the glow of the full moon.
"She's shifted," his Beta said, stepping up beside him.
Ronan's eyes narrowed. "I can feel her."
"Shall we move in?"
Ronan smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Not yet," he murmured. "Let her dance under her precious Alpha's moon. Soon, she'll remember who marked her first."
The next morning, Aria awoke sore but lighter. The run had eased something inside her some knot that had been strangling her chest.
Kael waited on her porch with two steaming mugs.
"Didn't think you'd show," he said when she opened the door.
She took the mug and sipped.
Why are you always outside my door?
He gave her a small smile. "Because I like seeing you safe."
She blinked, startled. Her fingers tightened around the mug.
Kael cleared his throat. "And because I need your help."
That surprised her.
He gestured to the map on the porch table. "Our scouts are losing ground. Ronan's wolves are using the shadows. They're everywhere and nowhere."
He handed her a pen.
"You're the only one who's survived his pack. I need your insight."
She stared at the map, memories flickering. The hidden trails. The way Ronan moved his wolves in spirals, always circling before striking.
She marked a few places on the map.
Kael studied it. "These are blind spots. We never patrolled here."
She nodded once.
Kael looked at her like he was seeing her all over again.
"Aria… you're more than a survivor."
I don't want to be prey anymore, she signed. I want to be the reason he bleeds.
That night, the inner circle met.
Aria stood among warriors, eyes sharp, posture straight.
"This is her plan," Kael said, gesturing to the new map. "We're using her knowledge. We hit Ronan's scouts first. We send a message."
There was silence.
Then Toben spoke.
"She knows the enemy better than we do. I say we follow her lead."
Lina nodded. "Let's burn his shadows."
No one objected.
Aria's chest tightened, but not with fear.
With purpose.
For the first time, they didn't see her as broken.
They saw her as a weapon.
And maybe… she was.