Chapter Six

Chapter Six : A Warrior

Cassian’s POV

The training grounds were filled with warriors practicing their moves. Some sparred in pairs, their bodies moving fast as they dodged and struck. Others stood in groups, watching and learning. The air was thick with sweat, dust, and determination.

I stood at the edge, arms crossed, observing everything. As the Alpha, I had to make sure my warriors were strong. If they were weak, the pack would be weak. And weakness was something I would never allow.

My eyes swept over the warriors until I noticed someone struggling.

An omega.

She was smaller than the others, her movements sloppy and weak. She threw punches, but they barely landed. Each time she was knocked down, she got up again, but her frustration was clear. The warriors around her muttered among themselves, shaking their heads.

I was about to turn away. Some wolves just weren’t meant to fight.

But then Aurora moved.

She had been standing nearby, watching. Now, she stepped forward.

“You’re using too much force,” she said to the omega.

The young girl blinked at her in confusion.

“Balance is important,” Aurora continued. “If your feet aren’t steady, you’ll fall. Spread your legs a little. Keep your center strong.”

The omega hesitated, then did as she was told.

“Good. Now, don’t just swing your arm. Put your whole body into it. Let the force come from your legs and twist your waist as you punch.”

The girl tried again. This time, her punch landed stronger. The sound of impact was louder. The warrior sparring with her gave a small nod of approval.

The omega’s face lit up in surprise.

A few warriors who had been whispering earlier were now watching quietly, their expressions changing. Even they had to admit Aurora knew what she was doing.

And I did too.

I narrowed my eyes, studying the way she moved. She didn’t just know how to fight. She had been trained. She watched the omega closely, correcting her form, showing her how to defend and attack properly.

She wasn’t just giving advice. She was teaching.

Something inside me stirred. I had assumed she was just some runaway, a lost she-wolf with no real skills. But this? This was different.

I had to know more.

“Aurora,” I called.

She turned, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Yes?”

“Come with me.”

She hesitated for a second before nodding.

I led her away from the training grounds, past the warriors who had been watching. We stopped near a tree where no one could hear us.

“You fight well,” I said.

She raised a brow. “Thank you?”

Her tone was cautious, like she wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or not.

I ignored that. “What pack are you from?”

Her expression changed. It was quick—so quick that most wouldn’t have noticed. But I did.

She paused. Then said, “A strong one.”

That wasn’t an answer.

“Which pack?” I persisted.

She moved slightly, her body stiffening.

“I don’t have a pack anymore,” she said.

I moved a step closer. “Why?”

She turned away. “I left.”

“Why?” I repeated.

She didn’t respond.

I expelled a breath through my nose. My wolf wasn’t fond of silence. Silence meant secrets.

“You fight like a warrior,” I stated. “You know moves most wolves don’t. You teach like an experienced fighter. And yet, you hide where you’re from.”

She stiffened but said nothing.

Something didn’t feel… right about this.

“Are you a spy?” I demanded, voice low and commanding.

Her eyes widened in shock. “What? No!”

I moved fast.

In a swift motion, I grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm slightly, just enough to get a reaction out of her. She cried out, trying to struggle free, but I held her fast.

“Why are you here, then?” I growled. “The truth.”

She struggled, her breathing rapid. “I’m not a spy! I just—”

“Just what?” I pressed.

Her mouth opened, then shut again.

I tightened my grip a bit, and she whimpered. “Tell me.”

“Cassian, please,” she whispered. “I have no reason to spy. I just needed a place to stay.”

I searched her face, her eyes especially. There was fear there—but something more as well. She was hiding something, but it wasn’t a lie.

Slowly, I let her go.

She moved back, rubbing her wrist, her breath coming unevenly.

“If you lie to me,” I warned, my voice deadly, “there will be no second chance.”

She swallowed and nodded.

I turned away, my mind racing.

I still didn’t trust her. But I wouldn’t push—not yet.

For now, I would watch her.

And if she turned out to be a threat, I would take care of it myself.