The first thing I felt was the ache. A dull, punishing ache that ran from my shoulders down to my legs, like every muscle had been torn apart and stitched back together with fire.
I sucked in a slow breath, eyes opening to the pale morning light bleeding through the cracks of the hut. The air was sharp with frost. My ribs protested when I sat up, and for a second, I thought about lying back down. But that wasn’t an option.
Not today.
Get up.
The voice inside me low, steady, sharper than my own thoughts. My wolf. She had been quiet for years, sometimes silent for so long I thought she’d abandoned me. But lately, she’s been stirring more often. Maybe Watching, Waiting.
I swung my legs over the edge of the cot, my bare feet pressing against the cold wooden floor. My palms brushed over my bruises. Every touch brought back yesterday’s sparring match with Kellan. The memory of throwing him to the ground, of his rage twisting into h
The first thing Selene noticed when she woke was pain. Her arms ached, her legs felt heavy, and every bruise screamed in protest the moment she tried to move. She lay there for a while, staring at the wooden beams above her bed, almost convincing herself to stay still. But she knew better. In this place, if she didn’t rise, someone would drag her out and she’d never hear the end of it.With a sharp breath, she pushed herself upright. Her muscles burned, and her ribs throbbed where she’d taken a hit the day before. Still, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, forcing herself to stand.That’s when it happened.A voice. Soft. Distant. Almost like a whisper carried on the wind.Hi.Selene froze. Her head snapped around the room. Empty. Just her and silence. She pressed her hand to her temple. Maybe she hadn’t slept enough. Maybe her brain was playing tricks on her.But then it came again.I never left.Her chest tightened. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t clear, but it was real. Stran
The first thing I felt was the ache. A dull, punishing ache that ran from my shoulders down to my legs, like every muscle had been torn apart and stitched back together with fire.I sucked in a slow breath, eyes opening to the pale morning light bleeding through the cracks of the hut. The air was sharp with frost. My ribs protested when I sat up, and for a second, I thought about lying back down. But that wasn’t an option.Not today.Get up.The voice inside me low, steady, sharper than my own thoughts. My wolf. She had been quiet for years, sometimes silent for so long I thought she’d abandoned me. But lately, she’s been stirring more often. Maybe Watching, Waiting.I swung my legs over the edge of the cot, my bare feet pressing against the cold wooden floor. My palms brushed over my bruises. Every touch brought back yesterday’s sparring match with Kellan. The memory of throwing him to the ground, of his rage twisting into h
The moon hung low and heavy, pale light spilling across the encampment like liquid silver. The cold was sharper at night, a knife that cut through every layer of cloth and skin, biting deep into bone. My breath ghosted white into the darkness as I fastened my cloak, fingers stiff from the frost.Tonight was my first patrol.It wasn’t a duty given lightly. Night belonged to predators rogues, shadow-stalkers, and worse. Wolves sent to guard the borders at this hour had to be sharp, disciplined, unflinching. For me, it was more than a task. It was another test. Another chance to prove I was not the weak, broken thing they believed me to be.The yard outside the barracks was already alive with movement. Four warriors waited, cloaked in black and gray, their breath steaming in the frigid air. Their gazes shifted when I approached, not quite hiding the disdain in their eyes.“Shadowfang runs with real wolves, not strays,” one muttered under his br
The mountain air sliced sharp against my lungs as I descended from the ridge with Damien at my side. Snow crunched under our boots, the sound stark against the silence of waiting wolves.They had gathered in a wide half-circle at the base of the steps, a wall of fur and iron, of stares too heavy to ignore. Breath misted from their mouths, hanging white in the night like smoke from a pyre.The oath still throbbed in my chest. Blood bound me now to Shadowfang, to Damien, to a fate I could not unmake. The ritual cut on my palm had healed, but the memory of it pulsed like a heartbeat.Damien stopped first, his black coat trailing like the edge of shadow itself. His gaze swept over the gathered wolves, steady, unhurried, absolute.“She has sworn,” he said, voice low but carrying to the farthest ear. “Her blood is Shadowfang’s now.”The declaration fell like a stone into deep water.Growls rippled at the edges of the crowd. Some wolv
The summons came at dusk.I was in my quarters, rubbing the ache from my wrists, when a sharp knock rattled the door. I opened it to find a young wolf barely older than a boy standing stiffly at attention. His eyes never quite met mine.“The Alpha calls you,” he said, then turned and left before I could ask why.The words alone should have told me enough. But it was the silence outside, the sudden absence of laughter, the stillness settling over the camp that made my stomach tighten. Wolves rarely went quiet without reason.I followed.The boy led me through narrow paths lit by torches, deeper into the Shadowfang camp than I had yet gone. Soon the huts gave way to stone steps cut into the earth. The air grew heavier, thicker, tinged with smoke. When we emerged, I saw it:The Bloodfire Pit.It was an amphitheater carved into the ground itself, its stone walls worn by centuries of weather and wolves. Fi
The bruises had spread overnight.By morning, my body looked like a canvas painted in shades of violet, blue, and a sickly yellow. My ribs ached with every breath, my arms were stiff, and even the act of lacing my boots was an exercise. I’d slept little sleep never came easy but today it was my body, not my mind, that rebelled.Still, I rose.The Shadowfang camp didn’t pause for my pain, and I refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me falter.Outside, the mist still clung low, veiling the frost-hardened earth. Wolves were already stirring: patrols switching shifts, smoke rising from the mess hall chimney, a pair of young warriors sparring near the kennels. The world felt watchful, as though every tree leaned closer, waiting to see if I would break.I refused to.The training yard was rimed with frost, the ground firm underfoot. When I arrived, a dozen wolves were already lined up, warm