Chapter 06

I searched through my window, scanning the dark grounds trying to find where the voice was coming from.

Nothing.

Just silence.

I felt a chill crept down my spine, but I refused to let fear take hold of me.

Show yourself. I am Rhea, Alpha of the Crescent Pack. Show yourself now.

Nothing.

The weight of the night pressed against me. Whoever it was, they were watching but had no intention of revealing themselves.

I stepped away from the window, closing the curtains with a sharp pull.

I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. My body ached from the weight of the past few weeks. My uncle, Xavier, was circling like a vulture, waiting for the moment I slipped. The council questioned my rule, and some among my people hesitated to stand behind a female Alpha.

Weak. Unfit.

That’s what they whispered when they thought I wasn’t listening.

I clenched and unclenched my jaw. Let them whisper. Let them doubt.

One day, I would make them choke on their words.

But for now, I needed sleep.

Sleep had become a stranger to me, yet I was extremely tired and my mind was full of so many thoughts.

If crying was all I had left, then I was already defeated. And I, Alpha Rhea, would never break that way.

I had known struggle from the moment I was born. It followed me like a shadow, tightening its grip at every turn. My life was not meant to be easy, power never came without cost.

I didn’t realize when my mind drifted back to the day I lost my parents. I tried to push against the memories, forcing myself back to the present. A single tear had slipped free, but I wiped it away before it could betray me further.

You are an Alpha, you don't have to cry.

Sleep took me.

And when morning came, it was slow, like it never wanted to come. Even the sun hesitated to rise on my battles.

I woke up at exactly 5 a.m. Darkness still covered the sky, clinging stubbornly to the land.

There was no point trying to sleep again. My body thrummed with restless energy. If I couldn’t silence my thoughts, I would train.

So, I dressed in my battle gear-practical, durable, woven with the legacy of those who came before me. Leather reinforced with light chainmail, bracers marked with tribal symbols, and a belt carrying a ceremonial dagger. My boots, crafted from the hide of a beast I had slain myself, reminded me that every victory came at a cost.

A cloak draped over one shoulder, fastened with a silver clasp. The weight was familiar, grounding.

This was who I was.

I stepped into the hallway, my footsteps nearly soundless as I made my way outside.

The morning air was crispy when I stepped outside, the first indications of dawn barely touching the horizon. The pack was still asleep, but I couldn't rest any longer. My body thrummed with restless energy.

Train. Prepare. Be ready.

If war was coming, I needed to meet it head-on.

The moment I stepped into the heart of the forest far from home, it welcomed me like an old friend.

I felt it the moment I crossed the threshold the land’s pulse beneath my feet, the whisper of the trees, the weight of unseen eyes.

A mist curled through the trees, thick and low. The air carried the scent of damp earth and something deeper. Something only an Alpha could sense.

I moved with purpose, weaving between ancient trunks, my boots barely making a sound.

Then, I arrived.

A secluded clearing.

Here, the sunlight fought to break through the dense canopy, casting shifting patterns across the ground. The air hummed with something unspoken.

I inhaled deeply, centering myself.

This was my training ground, where I sharpened my strength, where I bled, where I became something more than just a leader.

Near the edge of the clearing, a spring bubbled over smooth stones. The water gleamed silver, never still. Legends spoke of warriors who drank from its depths and felt their senses sharpen, their wounds heal faster than nature allowed.

I knelt beside it, dipping my fingers into the cool water. A jolt of energy ran up my arm, sharp and electric. A reminder of its power. A reminder of mine.

Turning away, I strode toward the battlefield I had built for myself. Fallen logs, uneven terrain, every step here had to be measured, every strike calculated.

I leaped onto a slick boulder, balancing with ease. I closed my eyes, listening.

Not just to the rustling leaves.

To the forest itself.

To the whispers of the past.

Then, I drew my sword.

The blade sliced through the air with sharp precision. Strike, spin, dodge. Every movement dug into my bones. Sweat slicked my skin, but I didn’t stop.

Lead with strength, or they will tear you apart.

My father’s words echoed in my mind as I spun, my sword carving through the dew.

Then, I heard a sound.

Too soft for prey.

Too controlled for accidents.

I turned my gaze and held my blade in my hand before I even saw who it was.

A figure stepped into the clearing, hands raised in surrender.

“Easy, Alpha,” came the familiar voice.

“It’s just me.”

Damon.

I exhaled sharply, lowering my weapon as he smirked. His blond hair was messy, as if he’d rolled out of bed and decided to fight a war.

“You scared the life out of me.”

“If that scared you,” he said, leaning against a tree, then you’re losing your edge, Rhea.

I rolled my eyes and sheathed my blade. “What are you doing here?”

When I woke up, I couldn't continue sleeping. The thought of bringing back Freya still exists in my mind so I decided to come to your room, but I remembered something…

He stepped closer, his expression shifting from playful to serious. “You always train here when something’s bothering you.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Damon studied me, his smirk fading. “So? What is it this time?” Is the council breathing down your neck again? Your uncle is making his next move?”

I turned back to the spring, dipping my hands into the water. “It doesn’t matter.”

Damon scoffed. “It does if you’re pushing yourself so hard you didn’t hear me sneak up on you.”

I shot him a look. “I heard you.”

“Oh, Yeah?” He challenged me.

Then why were you about to gut me like a rogue?

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Because these days, I don’t know if the next person I see will be a friend or an enemy.

Damon stepped closer, voice quieter. He was dressed for training fitted with a tunic, reinforced leather armor, and twin daggers strapped to his belt.

You’re not alone in this, Rhea. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.

I stared at him, then scoffed, standing. Tell that to the ones waiting for me to fail.

Damon crossed his arms. Let them wait. You? You’re going to make them regret ever doubting you.

A small smile tugged at my lips.

Maybe he was right.

But I knew the truth.

Power wasn’t just claimed.

It had to be defended.

He drew one dagger, twisting it between his fingers. “Shall we?”

I smirked. “Try to keep up.”

I lunged first, closing the space between us in a heartbeat. My blade met his dagger with a sharp clang, the force sending vibrations up my arm. Damon barely had time to dodge before I struck again, my speed was unstoppable.

“Still fighting like you’ve got something to prove,” Damon grunted, blocking my next attack.

“I do.”I spun, sweeping a kick at his legs. He dodged, twisting away with fluid grace. And you’re in my way.

Damon exhaled, shaking his head. One day, you’re going to learn that not everyone’s your enemy.

I swung again. He dodged.

“Then stop acting like one.”

Damon smiled. “Fair.”

The fight increases our swords clashing, feet moving over the forest floor. I fought with sharp, precise movements, every strike calculated. Damon, however, was a calculative fighter. He flowed around my attacks, never wasting energy, never striking first.

But I was faster.

I turned left, sweeping the grip of my sword toward his ribs. Damon barely twisted in time, but I caught him off balance, knocking him back a step.

He let out a low whistle. “Alright, alright. You win.”

I smirked, resting my sword on my shoulder. “You’re getting slow.”

Damon sheathed his dagger. “Or maybe you’re getting better.”

I was about to retort when the wind shifted.

Damon’s gaze sharpened. His hand drifted near his dagger again.

Neither of us spoke.

Something was wrong.

The forest, once alive with morning sounds, fell silent. The birds stopped singing. Even the wind stilled.

Damon tensed beside me, hand moving over his weapon.

“We’re not alone,” he muttered.

A twig barked.

I turned sharply, blade drawn. I could see shadows moving between the trees… silent, as if it were controlled steps.

Then, they appeared.

Men wearing dark leather, their faces cold and unreadable. These weren’t common rogues. Some bore the crest of Beacon’s Pack. Others carried the symbol of my uncle, Xavier.

My jaw tightened.

So, he finally made his move.

A man with a scar running down his cheek stepped forward, resting his sword on his shoulder. His voice was calm. Almost amused.

“The Alpha’s orders are clear,” he said, eyes locking onto mine. “You surrender… or you die.”

Damon let out a sharp breath. “I hate when they give us options.”

I smirked. “It makes them think they have a chance.”

Then, I moved.

My sword flashed, slicing through the morning light.

The battle had begun.