Chapter 4: Train the Weak

Draven’s fortress wasn’t stone. It was mountain.

He set me in a room with no windows. “Safe room. Witches can’t scry stone this deep.”

He left. Came back with clothes. Leather. Knives. “Dress. Meet me in the yard.”

I changed. The leather fit. Too well.

The yard was dirt and blood and snow. His men watched.

“Hit me,” Draven said.

“I can’t—”

He moved. I was on my back. Dirt in my mouth.

“Again,” he said.

Five days. He knocked me down five hundred times.

Day one I cried. He said, “Tears are water. Wolves drown in water. Stand.”

Day two I blocked once. He nodded. “Again.”

Day three I cut him. Small. Forearm. He looked at the blood. Looked at me. “Finally.”

Day four I asked about the curse.

He made me run while he talked. “Bloodline curse kills pups. Started twenty years ago. After your mother died.”

My mother. Hollow Pack omega. Died birthing me.

“Witches don’t curse for free,” he said. “Someone paid. Twenty years ago. Your birth triggered it.”

“Who?” I gasped.

“Running,” he said. “Not talking.”

Day five. Summit morning.

I could disarm a guard. I could take a hit. I could run ten miles.

I stood in the yard. Leather. Knives. Hair braided. No cloak.

Draven walked a circle around me. “You’re not weak anymore.”

“I’m not strong,” I said.

“You’re mine,” he said. “That’s enough.”

He held out his hand. In it was a collar. Black. Silver.

“Mark me,” I said. “Before the Summit. Let them see.”

His eyes heated. “You sure?”

“Lyra sold my baby,” I said. “Caiden branded me. The witch has a sister. I’m done being prey.”

He stepped close. His mouth went to my neck. Right over my pulse.

“Bite back,” he said. “Or the bond won’t take.”

I turned my head. Bit his shoulder. Hard. Tasted blood.

He groaned. Bit me.

Pain. Heat. Bond.

The world went white. Then right.

I was his. He was mine.

Power flooded me. Not magic. Certainty.

We pulled apart. Both breathing hard.

His thumb touched the mark on my neck. “Little wolf.”

I touched his bite on his shoulder. “Big bad.”

Horns blew outside. “Summit,” he said. “Time to bleed.”

We walked out together.

The court waited. Three hundred Alphas. Caiden was there. In chains. Prince no more.

The Alpha King stood. “Brother. You bring an omega to the Summit?”

Draven pulled me forward. “I bring my Luna.”

Gasps.

“An omega Luna?” someone yelled.

I stepped up. Voice steady. “The Goddess chose me. The witch branded me. The Butcher marked me. Try me.”

An Alpha charged. Redfang. Big.

I moved. Draven taught me. I ducked. Sliced his tendon. He fell.

Silence.

Draven smiled. Wolfish. “Anyone else want to test my Luna?”

No one moved.

The Alpha King sat. “Then we talk bloodline.”

A female stepped from the crowd. Bald. Symbols on her scalp.

The witch’s sister.

She smiled. “Hello, little wolf. I’m here for the firstborn.”

Draven went still. “We don’t have one.”

“Yet,” she said. “But you will. And when you do, she’s mine. Unless you give me something better.”

“What,” I said.

“Your name,” she said. “Give me your name, Wren Holloway, and I break the bloodline curse forever. No more dead pups. But you become nameless. Packless. Memoryless.”

The court murmured.

“Don’t,” Draven said.

“If I don’t,” I said, “every pup dies. Including ours.”

“We won’t have one,” he said.

“We will,” I said. “Because I’m not afraid anymore.”

I stepped toward the witch. “Deal.”

“Wren,” Draven barked.

I looked at him. “I’m Luna. My choice.”

I faced the witch. “Take my name. Break the curse.”

She grinned. Reached for me.

Draven moved. Blade out. Took her hand off at the wrist.

She screamed. Black blood.

“No deals,” he said. “We break curses with claws and teeth, not names.”

The witch cradled her stump. “You’ll regret this. The curse doubles now. Your firstborn dies at birth and takes the mother with her.”

She vanished. Smoke.

The court exploded.

The Alpha King stood. “The curse doubles. The Duskbane line ends.”

“No,” I said. My voice cut through.

Everyone looked at me.

“I was omega,” I said. “Branded. Leashed. Sold. I’m still here.” I pulled my knife. Cut my palm. “I break curses. Not witches.”

I pressed my bleeding palm to the Summit stone. The center of all packs.

The stone cracked.

Light came out. White. Gold.

A voice filled the air. Not mine. Not Goddess.

*“Bloodline debt paid. A consort who chooses pack over self. Curse broken.”*

Silence.

Then pups cried. In the crowd. Newborns. Alive.

The curse was twenty years. Twenty years of dead pups.

Now they cried.

The Alpha King sank to his throne. “Goddess.”

Draven looked at me. Really looked.

“You’re not weak,” he said.

“I’m not,” I said.

Caiden laughed from his chains. Broken. “You were supposed to die.”

I walked to him. Crouch. “You were supposed to rule. We both got better.”

I stood. Faced the court. “The Duskbane line stands. The bloodline is healed. My name is Wren Duskbane. And I’m not done.”

Draven came to my side. Took my bleeding hand. “Neither am I.”