Chapter 2

Zahra's POV

I head off in the direction of the training grounds, cutting up the street towards the Alpha house.

As my father is the current Beta, we live just down from the Alpha’s home. Our tree-lined road is where the leadership houses sit, neat and impressive for anyone looking in from the outside. The Gamma house faces ours, the Delta house stands next door, and on the other side is the head warrior’s place.

That one’s empty now.

The pack hasn’t had a head warrior since he was killed a few months ago fighting rogues, and Alpha Lucas hasn’t replaced him. The house sits dark and unclaimed, like a missing tooth everyone’s learned to talk around.

I reach the trees at the edge of the Alpha’s grounds and stop to stretch before setting out at a gentle jog. The run to the training field takes about ten minutes through the woods, skirting the lake.

Once I’m there, I drop my bag by the benches at the edge of the field and set off along the western perimeter trail. I’ve got another hour before early training begins, before anyone other than patrols will be out here.

Because I’m the only one insane enough to voluntarily run at 4:30am.

Life in the Blood Moon Pack is pretty good for most wolves. We have a strong Alpha. Alpha Lucas is one of the strongest in the country, ruthless in a fight but a fair leader. Luna Alison is kind in a way that makes people feel safe just standing near her. Our warriors are some of the fiercest anywhere. Blood Moon trains hard, and young, and it shows.

From the outside, anyone would assume that as the Beta’s daughter, my life is a cakewalk.

In some ways it is. I live in a secure pack. I get training. I get an education. I sleep under a solid roof in a large house.

But behind the polished façade, my life is lonely, and loveless.

My mother died when I was a new baby. No one has ever explained what happened. All I’ve pieced together is that she got sick after my birth and never recovered, which is rare for werewolves. Our healing usually means we recover from most things. Still, the topic is forbidden. I’m not allowed to ask about her, and the few times I tried, the air in the room went cold enough to choke on.

Because he lost his mate, my dad is distant. He’s a great Beta when it comes to pack duties. He shows up, he leads, and he trains my brother Zachary ready to replace him when the time comes.

Most days, my father treats me like a ghost. If he speaks to me, it’s discipline. He doesn’t answer questions. He doesn’t acknowledge I exist unless other wolves are around, and even then, it’s more about appearances than me.

And every now and then, he gets drunk.

When that happens, he acknowledges me with his fists and his feet. It only ever seems to happen when my brother is out, which means it’s happening more and more lately.

Two years ago, something in me finally snapped into place.

My brother and his friends were out celebrating one of their birthdays, and later they ended up at the Alpha house for a BBQ and pool party. My dad got completely wasted. When I came downstairs for dinner, he started in on me like he always does when he’s drunk. He blamed me for his mate’s death, called me useless, weak, an ugly runt. He shouted that I was no better than an Omega.

Then the beating started.

That night he broke most of the ribs on my right side, and my wrist. I didn’t go to the pack hospital. I stayed quiet. I stayed home. I stayed out of sight.

I was too young to have shifted then, so my healing was slower. I was in Agony for a whole week. I lay huddled in my room, barely moving, letting my bones knit as best they could, while his words replayed in my head until they felt like truth.

By the end of that week, I realised something I’ve never forgotten.

Despite everything, I was still a Beta female. Maybe unwanted. Maybe unloved. But not defeated.

If I wanted a life away from my father and this pack, I had to become strong. I decided right then and there that I would train until no one could ever make me a victim again.

Warriors are always in demand, and Blood Moon training means something. But I don’t just want to be good.

I want to be the best.

My ultimate goal is the Royal Guard, or better yet the Alpha King’s Elite Task Force. They’re not just warriors. They’re the best of the best, a team of highly skilled individuals who carry out dangerous covert missions across the kingdom

There are a few ways in.

Number one: graduate from Night Howler Academy and apply.

Number two: do well in the Alpha King’s Tournament.

Number three: become an Elite Warrior within my pack and enter the Elite Trials.

Night Howler Academy is the hardest path, and the one I want most. The Advanced Warrior Training Academy in the Night Howler pack only takes five candidates a year from across the kingdom. It’s a four-year program that turns fighters into weapons.

They only take you once you finish school. I’ve read and re-read the entry criteria so many times I could recite it in my sleep. It says candidates must have completed high school before applying. It does not say they need to be over eighteen. So that’s my plan.

Apply the moment I graduate.

If that doesn’t work, there’s the Alpha King’s Tournament. It’s held every four years and it’s one of the fastest ways to get noticed. Is a series of Combat, strategy, teamwork competitions. It’s open to any wolf in the kingdom over the age of eighteen. The prize is one hundred thousand dollars and an invitation to join the Royal Guard. The next tournament is next year, and I’ll only be fifteen, too young to compete.

So that’s my backup plan.

Enter at nineteen, if I’m still here.

And if neither of those work, my backup-backup plan is to become an Elite Warrior for Blood Moon and enter the Elite Warrior Trials. They’re held every ten years. They’re like the Olympics for elite fighters, a chance for packs to show off who has the best of the best. Blood Moon has won three of the last five. The winner is automatically invited into the Alpha King’s Task Force.

The next trials aren’t for another seven years. I’d be twenty-one.

I don’t plan on still being here at twenty-one.