Chapter: 005

ELARA’S POV

Ash recovered faster than I had expected.

He was still thinner than the well-fed wolves the other disciples showed off in the training yards, and his grey coat had not yet grown thick and even, but something fierce had started to wake underneath the surface. When he walked beside me his paws no longer dragged. A quiet, coiled strength lived in the way he carried his head.

One clear afternoon I led him past the boundary stones of the Vale territory and up the narrow trail that climbed toward the back mountain. The air cooled as the pines closed in around us. Wind pushed through the branches and made his fur lift in uneven waves. Every few steps he glanced over his shoulder at me, his ears half flattened, as if he still expected me to decide he was too much trouble and turn back.

I did not rush him.

When the path opened into a small sunlit clearing I stopped and crouched low, both arms open.

“Come here, Ash,” I called out calmly.

Ash hesitated. His golden eyes flicked from my face to the trees and back again. Then he trotted forward on stiff legs and pushed his entire head into my chest. His wet nose brushed my chin. A low, rough sound rolled from his throat, half purr and half growl, as if he had not yet decided which one he meant to offer.

Something in my chest loosened. I buried my fingers in the coarse fur behind his ears and scratched until the tension slowly left his shoulders.

We began with the simplest commands.

No spoken words, only thought. The contract already linked our minds like a thin silver thread I could feel whenever I reached for it.

I closed my eyes and formed the image clearly.

Left.

Ash shifted his weight and stepped to the left, slow and uncertain.

I pictured him lowering his body until his belly touched the ground.

Lie down.

He sank down after a long pause, golden eyes never leaving mine.

The first ten attempts produced only five correct responses. He would start in the right direction and then second-guess himself, or freeze completely when the command felt too sharp. I did not scold him. I simply repeated the thoughts, steady and patient, until the thread between us grew clearer and stronger.

By the time the sun had moved past the highest pines he answered almost the moment the image formed in my mind. One thought and he moved. Another and he stopped. A third and he circled me once before settling at my side again, waiting.

“Good boy.”

I stroked the top of his head. Then I drew the small knife across my palm and held the open cut toward him. Ash licked the blood with focused seriousness, tongue warm and careful. When the bleeding slowed he nudged the closed wound with his nose and gave a soft whimper that sounded almost like worry.

The clearing felt quiet and complete around us. Wind moved through the needles. Birds called somewhere higher up the slope. The faint copper scent of my blood mixed with pine and damp earth.

Then a bright, cheerful laugh floated up from the path below.

I lifted my head to see who it was.

Selene stood in a wider section of the trail with a cluster of clan girls around her. She held the silver wolf against her side and spun in a slow circle so that its coat caught the afternoon light. The girls clapped and exclaimed, their voices carrying easily on the wind.

“It’s so beautiful!”

“Only someone like you could have contracted a wolf this rare.”

“The real Vale daughter really is blessed by the moon.”

I watched the silver wolf carefully. Its body pressed tightly against Selene, but the once-brilliant coat had already lost some of its shine. Under the clear sunlight the fur looked slightly dull, almost tired. The animal’s eyelids drooped even while it stood, and its breathing seemed heavier than it should have been.

I knew that wolf better than anyone alive.

It carried a congenital defect. In my previous life the only reason it had grown strong and proud was the steady supply of my special blood. Drop after drop, month after month. Without that blood, and with Selene treating it as little more than a pretty accessory to display in front of an audience, the weakness was beginning to show.

One of the girls, sharper-eyed than the rest, suddenly leaned closer and tilted her head.

“Huh? The color of this silver wolf’s fur… isn’t it much darker than when it first formed the contract?”

Selene’s smile stiffened for half a second. Then she laughed lightly and spun the wolf again, making its legs swing.

“Oh, no way. Silver wolves always shed after forming a contract. It’s just the shedding period. It will be fine in a few days. Look how full of energy it still is.”

The other girls nodded at once, relieved to agree with her.

“Right, right, shedding is completely normal.”

“You take such good care of it. That wolf is so lucky to have you.”

The silver wolf remained silent in her arms. Its head hung a little lower. Its eyes stayed half-closed.

I had no intention of stepping forward and exposing anything. The truth would surface on its own soon enough, and I preferred to let it happen without my fingerprints on it. I rested my hand on Ash’s neck, feeling the steady warmth of him, and turned to leave the clearing by the upper path.

Selene’s voice stopped me. “Sister?”

I looked back. She had already started up the slope toward us, still smiling the same soft smile she wore for every audience. The silver wolf was held loosely at her side now. The cluster of girls followed like bright, chattering shadows.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Selene said. Her tone was warm enough to sound sisterly and clear enough for everyone to hear. “Training that little grey one? How sweet of you. He’s still so thin. You must be working so hard.”

Ash went completely still under my palm.

The silver wolf’s head came up. Its eyes locked on me and a low, vibrating growl started in its chest. Selene made a soft, startled sound, as if the reaction surprised her, and deliberately loosened her fingers.

“Oh dear, I can’t seem to control him today—”

The silver wolf lunged straight toward me, fangs bared, claws tearing through the pine needles as it closed the distance.