The frost of early dawn clung to the training fields, mist curling around the feet of warriors moving through drills, their breaths like ghosts in the cold. Ariya stood at the edge of the grounds, arms crossed, watching. And Kael was there. For three days since she had told him, "Show me what loyalty looks like," Kael had not left the training grounds. He sparred with every warrior willing to face him, from the smallest scout to the oldest veteran, never refusing a match, never faltering. Ariya’s sharp gaze followed him as he took hit after hit but got back up every time, mud clinging to his tunic, blood crusting along his knuckles. He moved with the relentless determination of a wolf who had chosen his path and would not be turned away. Ember appeared beside Ariya, a steaming cup in hand, her eyes shadowed with quiet approval. "He’s not the kind to break easily." Ariya didn’t look away. "We’ll see." --- Kael fell to his knees after a particularly brutal match with a heavyset
Rain fell softly across the pine-scented grounds of Shadow Fang, mist curling along the training fields as dawn broke pale and hesitant across the horizon. Wolves sparred quietly, the thud of fists on flesh and the scrape of boots on dirt a steady rhythm under the morning hush.Kael stood at the tree line, hood drawn low, arms crossed as he watched her.Ariya.She moved like wind across water, every strike precise, every dodge measured. Her dark hair was braided back, damp with sweat, framing a face too young and too old all at once. Her eyes were sharp, but not cruel, her commands given with clarity that made even seasoned warriors pause and obey.He had heard of her before leaving Crescent Pack, stories of a young heir building a different kind of strength. Not just power but something more—hope. In the restless silence of his former home, Kael had wondered if such stories were only illusions, but watching her now, he saw the truth in each movement she made.He stayed for days at th
Rain drummed softly against the windows of the Moonspire’s east wing, where young Ariya stood barefoot, the cold stone seeping into her toes as she held her stance, fists raised, eyes fixed on the woman in front of her.“Again,” her mother said, her voice calm, almost gentle, but her eyes sharp as moonlight.Ariya sucked in a breath and attacked.Her mother stepped aside, catching her wrist with practiced ease, flipping her over her hip and onto the padded mat with a thud. The impact knocked the wind from Ariya’s lungs, but she clenched her jaw, rolled to her feet, and faced her mother again.“Better,” her mother said, nodding once. “But don’t lift your left shoulder before you strike. Watch me.”Her mother moved like water, each strike precise, each dodge effortless. Ariya memorized the shift of feet, the coiled tension in her mother’s frame, the way she used breath to guide each move.They trained until sweat soaked Ariya’s hair and her limbs trembled, but when her mother finally lo
The morning air was cool, tinged with dew and the whisper of pines that bordered the clearing Aria stood in, barefoot on damp grass, the wind pressing her shirt to the curves of muscle she was re-learning to command. She rolled her shoulders back, exhaling slowly, the golden light of dawn painting her skin as Kael stood a few paces away, watching her with arms folded, jaw tense but eyes steady. No more words of “Do you remember?” anymore. They both knew she did. Now, it was about reclaiming what was always hers. - She moved through her stances, body gliding low, shifting weight from heel to toes, movements sharp and precise. Her arms sliced through the air, each twist of her wrist cracking like a whip. Her breath was controlled, each inhale filling her lungs with cool air, each exhale grounding her in the present. Her wolf hummed under her skin, eager, restless, pacing with her. Kael circled, silent, noting the way her strikes had a natural precision, how even in thi
Rain dripped from the roof as Aria stepped back into the house, Ember’s warmth still clinging to her hand even though Ember was gone. Her mother glanced up from the kitchen, her eyes narrowing as she wiped her hands on a towel. “Aria Moon, where have you been?” Damien leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, tension in his shoulders. His eyes, so much like their father’s, flicked over her, searching for answers. Aria opened her mouth, closing it again, the weight of the red thread Ember had given her still heavy in her pocket. “Just needed some air,” she said softly. Damien’s jaw tightened. “At this hour? In the rain?” Her mother stepped forward, cupping Aria’s cheek, feeling for fever. “You’re freezing. Go take a hot bath, okay? We’ll talk after.” Aria nodded, relief and guilt tangling in her chest as she slipped past them, climbing the stairs to her room. She shut the door, leaning against it, the breath she had been holding finally escaping in a shaky exhale. She tur
Aria lay sprawled on the couch, the hum of rain against the windows blending with the soft laughter of her mother and brother in the kitchen. The house smelled of warm spices, wet earth, and that subtle scent of safety she’d almost begun to trust. But beneath the quiet, something pulsed in her blood. A restless tension. A warning. She didn’t know when she fell asleep, only that she woke to a creak of the porch, the hush of rain, and a presence—steady, burning, impossible to ignore. Ember stood there. Rain clung to her braids, dripping down her face like tears she would never let herself cry. Her dark eyes locked on Aria, quiet urgency in their depths. Aria blinked, pushing herself up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Ember?” “We need to go,” Ember said softly, stepping into the room like a shadow. “Now?” Aria glanced toward the kitchen where her mother’s voice was still humming, her brother’s laugh sharp and easy. Ember’s eyes flickered toward the sound, then back. “Now.” Ari