Chapter 8

Lysa didn’t waste time, taking me outside the cabin again in the morning. My arms were still sore from splitting wood, and my legs trembled from all the running I had done. 

But she didn’t care, and honestly, I didn’t want her to because the pain reminded me that I was still alive. That I hadn’t given up.

“Today,” she said, handing me a small bag of herbs, “we start the real work.”

I stared at the bag. “What kind of work?”

She smiled faintly. “The kind you should have learned long before now. The kind your pack should have taught you.”

Those words hurt. Not because they were harsh, but because they were true. I swallowed and nodded, ready for whatever came.

“Come,” she said.

We walked away from the cabin, and into a wider clearing where the ground was soft with fallen leaves. 

“First,” Lysa said, stopping in the middle of the clearing, “we steady your breathing. Your wolf is still panicking under your skin.”

I looked down at my hands. They were trembling slightly. Not from cold. From something deeper. Something that felt like shame wrapped around fear.

“Sit,” she instructed.

I lowered myself onto the ground and Lysa sat across from me with the ease of someone who had done this many times.

“Close your eyes.”

I hesitated for a heartbeat before doing as she asked. Darkness settled behind my eyelids. Usually, darkness scared me. Too many memories lived there. Voices. The sound of Greg rejecting me. The cheers of the pack. The slap that made my ears ring.

But now… now the darkness felt like a quiet room waiting for my voice.

“Breathe in,” Lysa said gently.

I inhaled.

“Slowly. Hold. Now breathe out.”

I exhaled.

“Again.”

We did this for several minutes. At first, nothing changed. My heart still raced. My stomach still twisted. But slowly, very slowly, the tightness inside me loosened. The air moved easier through my chest and my shoulders relaxed.

I felt Helena rise in the back of my mind, curious but calm.

‘It feels warm,’ she whispered.

“It does,” I answered silently.

Lysa’s voice came again. “Listen to your wolf. Not the panic. Not the anger. Just her presence.”

I focused. Helena was small in my mind, curled but awake. Her fur felt soft. Her eyes were alert. She wasn’t shaking anymore.

“She’s… quiet,” I whispered.

“She’s waiting for you,” Lysa said. “Your bond is there, but it’s thin. Frayed. That happens when a wolf is hurt or suppressed.”

“My pack suppressed me,” I murmured.

“I know,” she said gently. “But you’re free now. And she is too.”

My throat tightened. Those words felt dangerous. Hope always felt dangerous.

After a few more breaths, Lysa stood. “Good. Now get up.”

I opened my eyes. The world looked slightly different, sharper around the edges, softer in the places that once felt overwhelming.

“What now?” I asked.

“Now,” she said, raising her chin, “we learn what your body should have been taught long ago.”

                                       ***

Lysa walked around me in a slow circle, evaluating my posture. I felt like a student being judged, but her gaze wasn’t cruel.

“Your stance is all wrong,” she said. “You carry yourself like prey.”

My cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean..”

“I didn’t say you meant it,” she cut in gently. “I said it’s how you’ve been forced to live. And now we fix it.”

She took my shoulders and repositioned them, moving them back just slightly. Then she tapped my chin.

“Lift your head. Not too high. Confidence, not arrogance.”

I obeyed.

She nodded. “Better.”

She stepped behind me and nudged my feet apart.

“Wider stance. Knees relaxed. Wolves move from the hips and legs. If you stand stiff and narrow, you’ll fall at the first shove.”

I let out a slow breath and adjusted.

“Good. Now hold that.”

She walked backward and circled again. “This is how a wolf stands at rest. Balanced and ready..”

I felt stronger somehow. Like my body was finally realizing something important.

“Remember this stance,” she said. “It will save your life one day.”

The next lesson involved movement.

“Walk,” she said.

I began walking normally.

“No,” she said. “Walk like a wolf.”

I blinked. “I don’t know how to do that in human form.”

Lysa only lifted a brow. “Try.”

So I tried. I bent my knees, lightened my steps, and tried to imagine Helena inside me guiding my feet.

Helena stirred. ‘Left foot lighter… right foot softer… breathe with the step…’

Her voice was no longer shaking. It surprised me so much I nearly stumbled.

Lysa nodded. “Better. Think like your wolf. Move with her rhythm, not against it.”

We practiced for a long time. Walking. Pausing. Keeping my senses open but my face calm.

Every small movement mattered. Every breath mattered.

I never realized how much wolf training involved simply… feeling. Listening. Being aware.

After an hour, sweat slid down my back and my legs burned.

Lysa finally said, “Stop.”

I stopped, panting slightly.

“You’re learning quickly,” she said.

I blinked. “Really?”

She gave me a small smile. “You have instincts. They were never broken..”

Her words made heat rise behind my eyes. I looked away quickly.

Lysa continued, “Now we learn scent control.”

                                         ***

Scent control was harder.

Much harder.

Lysa explained it as simply as she could. “Your scent tells everyone who you are. What rank. What bloodline. You need to know how to soften it when necessary.”

“How?”

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she reached into a pouch and pulled out a dried leaf.

“This herb masks scent. But it won’t work unless your wolf cooperates.”

She crushed a little piece between her fingers and the sharp smell filled my nose. It felt like mint mixed with something colder.

“Hold it,” she said.

I took the herb. It tingled on my skin.

“Now,” she said, “breathe in deep. Think of your scent as something you can pull inward. Like pulling your aura tight around your body.”

I tried. Helena tried. But instead of masking, my scent flared.

Lysa’s eyes widened a bit. “Hmm.”

“What?” I asked quickly.

“Your scent is strong,” she said softly. “Very strong. Stronger than an Omega’s. Stronger than most wolves.”

I stiffened. “What does that mean?”

“It means your bloodline isn’t as weak as they wanted you to believe.”

My breath hitched.

“But that doesn’t matter right now,” Lysa said, resuming her calm tone. “Try again. Slow this time.”

I closed my eyes. Helena pressed close. Together, we imagined gathering something invisible around us like pulling a blanket over a flame.

My scent dimmed slightly.

“Good,” Lysa said.

We practiced for a long time. Hours, maybe. Masking. Releasing. Masking. Releasing.

It drained my energy fast, but by the end, I could lower my scent just enough to feel… smaller. Safer.

“Enough for today,” Lysa said.

My legs nearly gave out from relief. I sat on the grass, breathing hard. Helena curled around me in my mind, exhausted but proud.

“You learned well,” Lysa said, sitting beside me. “You listen. That’s rare.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She shook her head. “Don’t thank me. Thank yourself for surviving this far.”

The wind rustled the leaves softly and for a moment, I let myself relax. .

Then Lysa spoke again, voice quiet but firm.

“Aria… everything I’m teaching you has a purpose. I don’t know where you came from, or what chased you, but I can tell this. Your path isn’t over. Wolves with eyes like yours don’t live small lives.”

My heart thudded.

“I’m not strong,” I said.

“Not yet,” she answered. “But you will be.”

Helena’s warm breath brushed the inside of my thoughts.

‘We will be,’ she echoed.

And I believed it too.