CHAPTER 7

Aria woke at dawn, breath tight in her chest.

The cold air bit into her skin as she sat upright on the cot in Maela’s tent. The salve still tingled faintly on her healing thigh, but that wasn’t what kept her up. It was the heaviness pressing against her ribs like her body already knew.

The second trial was coming.

And this time, it wouldn’t just be blood that spilled, it would be truths.

Outside, the camp was still and shadowed, yet not silent. Whispers moved like wind through the tents. Soft, cutting, dangerous. A stir of anticipation cloaked the rogue camp.

Aria stepped outside, her boots crunching against damp earth. Her breath puffed white in the chill, rising like a ghost above the tents. Rogues emerged in pairs and small clusters, their eyes flicking to her with unreadable expressions.

She didn’t need words to understand what they were thinking.

She’s the reason this is all happening.

Silverpine’s eyes are on us because of her.

Why would Kael keep her after what she’s brought?

They didn’t say it. But they didn’t have to. Aria had learned early that silence could be sharper than any blade.

Still, she stood tall.

The handmade bracelet Nessa had gifted her before the first trial was still tied around her wrist, frayed but intact. She thumbed it for strength and forced her legs to move forward.

Maela approached from the other end of camp, hair wind-swept, expression unreadable. She walked beside Aria in silence for a few seconds before finally saying, “Don’t let them see fear. It feeds the wrong ones.”

“I’m not afraid,” Aria whispered.

Maela’s eyes flicked to hers, searching. “You are. But you’re walking anyway. That’s what matters.”

Ahead, the sparring circle had been cleared except for Kael.

He stood alone in the middle of the ring, arms folded, cloak brushing against the mud. His face was stone, but his eyes, dark and storm-churned never left her.

Aria’s heart beat faster.

No nod of encouragement. No flicker of concern. Just that same watchfulness that both burned and froze her.

The crowd gathered, low murmurs rippling like wind over tall grass. Aria spotted Nessa being held back by an older rogue woman. Wide eyes brimming with silent pleas. The child mouthed Be careful just before a horn sounded through the clearing.

The trial had begun.

A figure stepped forward from the opposite end of the circle. Tall. Muscled. Graceful.

A woman.

Her hair was dark gold, braided down her back, her expression proud and lethal. The moment Aria saw her eyes…amber and ice-cold, she knew.

Selene.

The best female warrior in the camp. One of Kael’s oldest fighters. And from the looks of it, one of his most loyal.

The kind that didn’t take kindly to outsiders.

Especially not ones marked by the Alpha.

“She requested this trial herself,” Kael said flatly, addressing the camp, but his eyes pinned Aria. “No weapons. No interference. The challenge ends when one yields or cannot rise.”

Aria blinked. No weapons?

She looked down at her hands. They trembled, not from fear, but from something deeper. The she-wolf inside her stirred again, close beneath the surface.

Selene rolled her shoulders, stepping forward.

“I heard you’re strong,” she said loud enough for all to hear, circling Aria. “But strength isn’t always earned. Sometimes it’s stolen.”

Aria’s lips parted. “I didn’t steal anything…”

“Didn’t you?” Selene spat. “You carry the Alpha’s mark. You’ve brought war to our doorstep. And you think bleeding once in the dirt makes you one of us?”

The words hit like slaps. But Aria didn’t flinch.

“I never asked to be here,” she said, voice low. “But I bled for this pack. I risked my life for it.”

Selene’s mouth twisted. “Then bleed again.”

She lunged.

Aria barely ducked in time. Selene’s fist skimmed past her jaw and she twisted, instinct driving her body. She dropped low, sweeping her leg out, but Selene jumped, agile, brutal and caught Aria across the ribs with a booted foot.

Pain exploded through her.

She gasped, rolled, staggered to her feet but Selene was already there. A punch landed on her shoulder, another on her hip. The woman fought like a storm, relentless and angry.

Aria blocked one blow, then another, but Selene drove a knee into her thigh, the same leg injured from the first trial.

Aria cried out, stumbling.

Laughter rippled through some of the crowd. She caught a glimpse of Kael. He hadn’t moved.

Just watched.

Unmoving. Unfeeling.

Her vision blurred, breath ragged.

“You’re not one of us,” Selene hissed, slamming her into the dirt. “You never were.”

Aria’s fingers dug into the ground.

You never were…

The she-wolf in her rose, not in fury, but in clarity.

She remembered her mother’s voice in a long-forgotten memory: “The fire in you isn’t meant to destroy, Aria. It’s meant to survive.”

With a growl, Aria twisted, driving her elbow into Selene’s ribs. The rogue grunted, staggering back.

Aria surged up, pain burning bright and alive inside her.

She didn’t strike wildly. She struck with purpose.

One blow to Selene’s jaw. A jab to her ribs. Another to her shoulder. Aria moved like a river set loose each hit fueled by fire and everything she had lost.

Selene reeled.

Aria grabbed her by the front of her tunic and slammed her to the ground.

Mud splashed. The camp went silent.

Selene wheezed beneath her. “Do it,” she spat. “Finish it.”

But Aria didn’t.

Instead, she leaned down, voice shaking. “I didn’t come here to destroy. I came here to survive.”

Selene’s eyes narrowed. “Then you’re not ready.”

And before Aria could rise, Selene yanked her down and drove her head into the dirt one last time.

Gasps erupted from the crowd.

Aria blinked, dazed…but still conscious. Still breathing.

The elders conferred.

“The trial is complete,” one called. “Aria of Silverpine… survives.”

Half the crowd cheered. Half turned away.

Kael’s eyes met hers from across the ring.

Still unreadable. But his fists were clenched tight at his sides.

Selene sat up, blood at the corner of her lip. She leaned toward Aria with a twisted smile and whispered so only she could hear:

“You’ll regret surviving