Chapter Seven – Baptism of Fire

 

The sting of the whip woke Sophie before dawn. Not the strike itself—it was only memory now—but the fire it had left behind. She sat on the edge of her bed, the sheets damp with sweat, and carefully peeled her dress away from the wounds.

The mansion was silent above her. Lucian slept, or brooded, in his study.

Sophie dipped a cloth into cool water, biting back a hiss as she cleaned the welts. She wrapped herself in fresh linen, hands steady despite the tremors in her chest. She would not show weakness. Not for him. Not for anyone.

By the time the sun breached the horizon, Sophie was dressed. Black cargo pants. Black singlet. The double silver swords strapped to her back, throwing stars cinched at her waist. Her hair tied in a sharp ponytail.

A warrior’s reflection stared back at her in the mirror. Not Lucian’s granddaughter. Not the girl who bled in silence. A Hunter.

---

Her mind wandered as she checked her gear. All the lessons from Wildbourne Academy, etched into muscle memory: the speed of her blade, the precision of her aim, her uncanny ability to scent rogues before anyone else. Strategy had always come naturally to her.

Hunters were human, yes—but not ordinary. Descendants of the Original Five, the royal hunters who centuries ago had been blessed with gifts to wipe out the first wolf abominations.

It had begun with a lone wolf, twisted enough to believe that devouring children might grant him immortality. As he fed, his form shifted, mimicking men, until he dared steal the King’s son. The Five had hunted him, killed him, saved the prince. But by then, the wolf’s sins had taken root. He had violated women in secret, and his half-human offspring spread like plague. Wolves prospered in shadows, multiplying, while the Five trained generations of hunters.

And Sophie—blood of that same line—was the newest heir to their burden.

---

A black armored car waited at the gate. Sophie climbed in, shoulders squared, though her heart dipped when she saw it was empty of Jax. Of course. He couldn’t spend every moment at her side.

Two hours later, the vehicle rolled into a high-security compound. Inside, Sophie was ushered into a war room buzzing with Hunters. Maps sprawled across the tables, drones fed live footage to glowing screens.

Jax stood at the head, cold fire in his eyes.

“In two days,” he said, voice carrying, “we move on the Spring Rivers Pack.”

Sophie blinked. A whole pack?

He explained with clinical precision. “The Alpha is our target. If we can’t reach him, then the Luna. She’ll draw him out. Betas are second priority, then the warriors. Wolves in their forms—avoid their teeth. A bite is poison. Twenty-four hours of agony before death. If captured and bitten…” His jaw hardened. “…better to kill yourself than wait.”

Johnny leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Relax, sweetheart. We’ve got silver. They won’t get close enough to use their teeth.”

Jax ignored him. “Omegas—women, children—will be in a stronghold. Our objective is annihilation.”

Sophie’s mask cracked. “Isn’t this… against the treaty?”

Jax’s gaze snapped to hers, ice-blue and unyielding. “This is war.”

The words struck like a blade.

---

One by one, Johnny introduced the rest of the squad.

“That’s Ryder—computer prodigy, though he spends more time on illegal bets than hacking.”

“Cole—our bomb guy. Don’t give him liquor, unless you want half the base blown up.”

“Those two are Nina and Marco. Don’t let the cuddling fool you—they’ll gut a wolf before breakfast.”

“Gideon—brooding type. Don’t expect small talk.”

“Then there’s Old Man Harris. Lost his wife and kids to rogues. Been chasing a deathwish ever since, but the bastard won’t die.”

“Kofi—giant, smokes like a chimney, hits harder than a truck.”

“And finally, Daichi—our samurai. Blades sharper than his tongue.”

Johnny threw Sophie a grin. “And now we’ve got the Ice Queen. Fastest blades in the Academy. Don’t let the face fool you—she’s deadly.”

When he clapped her back, Sophie flinched. His hand paused over the bandages hidden beneath her shirt. His eyes flickered with concern. “You okay?”

“From the Ball,” she said smoothly, her tone flat. “I’ll heal.”

He didn’t press.

---

“Any more recruits?” someone asked.

“Tomorrow,” Jax said. “Sophie is the only underage one. She’ll sleep at her own home unless we’re on assignment. She’s not in barracks.”

The decision cut, though Sophie didn’t show it. Home was the last place she wanted to be.

“Dismissed,” Jax ordered. “Rest while you can.”

---

The drive back was silent. Shiloh had been assigned her escort, and the woman kept her eyes on the road.

Sophie tried. “How long have you been with Jax?”

“Long enough,” Shiloh replied, her voice clipped.

Sophie swallowed her words, then slid back into her mask. If Shiloh wanted Ice, she would get Ice.

When they pulled up to the mansion gates, Shiloh finally spoke.

“I hate new recruits. Most of them get us killed before they prove their worth. Don’t be one of them.”

Sophie’s chin lifted. “I won’t.”

Shiloh’s gaze flicked to her, cool, unreadable. “And one more thing. Jax. You’re young. Probably haven’t had experience with men. He’s… one to watch. Promises the moon, gives it to someone else.”

The words hung between them, sharp and ambiguous. Shiloh shrugged, as if she didn’t care either way.

“Goodnight, Ice Queen.”

And then Sophie was left at the gate, uncertain if she had been warned by a friend—or an enemy