Chapter Five: Strength in Blood

Tanya's POV

They woke me up before dawn.

No words,no explanations. Just Garrick’s hand wrenching me upright by the collar of my borrowed shirt, and hauling me from the thin mattress into the chill of pre-morning dark. I didn’t bother to ask where we were going. I knew better than to speak.

The other pack members waited outside. Sera, Ulric and three more whose names I hadn’t learned because they hadn’t deemed me worthy of a conversation. Dante stood apart from the rest, arms crossed with his jaw set in something close to warning.

Beyond them, Tion stood.

His wolf form loomed larger in the semi darkness than it had in my memory. Black as shadow with eyes that looked like molten gold. He shifted slowly, bones cracking, skin splitting and reshaping until the man stood where the beast had been.

He didn’t bother dressing fully. Only loose fitting pants,his bare chest streaked with scars both old and new. The mark of an Alpha who bled as often as he commanded.

“This is your moment, little wolf,” he said. His raspy voice echoing through the space . “Either you earn your place among us… or we bury you beyond the borders.”

A pit was dug behind him. Not wide. Not deep. Just enough to hold one body.

Mine.

No ceremony. No threats. Just reality.

Fight. Win. Live.

Fail. Fall. Die.

They formed a circle, bodies close, eyes brighter than the steadily rising sun. No jeers. No taunts. This wasn’t cruelty for sport. This was law.

I stepped forward on shaking legs. Garrick met me in the center.

“You’re not worth my claws,” he sneered at me. “But I’ll definitely enjoy this.”

No weapons. No added advantage but what little instincts I’d been able to sharpen in these past few brutal weeks. Garrick had height, weight and strength…all the things that mattered in a fight. Rage in his blood. Victory in his teeth.

The only thing I had was the deep feeling of exhaustion in my bones. Pain, hunger and something colder all fused together beneath my skin. A refusal to die without putting up a fight no matter how little beneath someone else’s heel.

The first blow landed across my jaw, spinning me sideways. I tasted copper in the blood from my split lip. The circle didn’t flinch.

Get up.

I did.

The second blow pushed all the breath out of my lungs. My ribs screamed in protest. I staggered, bent by the waist, and saw my own blood dropping on the dirt.

Get up.

Again.

Fists, feet, and the heel of a hand slammed into my temple and other body parts repeatedly. The world blurred while Garrick continued to deliver blow after blow without holding back. My wolf whimpered deep inside me, caged and useless still. But something older unfurled beneath my bones. Something foreign but mean and desperate.

I wasn't dead. Not yet.

I caught Garrick’s wrist on his next swing. My fingers barely wrapped around it, but I held onto it, and while twisting fast, drove my knee up into his side where I knew even wolves got bruises. He grunted, surprised and off balanced.

But the element of shock that I could hit back where it hurt wasn't nearly enough.

He threw me down again and when my shoulder hit the ground, there was an audible crack. Stars exploded behind my eyes from the pain.

Get. Up.

Blood dripped from my lip. From my scalp. I didn’t know where half the wounds came from anymore. My body screamed surrender.

But my pride screamed louder.

I would not die beneath Garrick’s heel. I would not die nameless, unwanted and forgotten.

Not here. Not now.

When I rose this time, something in the watching wolves shifted. A ripple through the ranks. Recognition.

She’s still standing.

Garrick’s grin faltered. His fists didn’t.

He charged at me this time with blind rage and absolute brute strength. But I’d learned from Dante. From Tion. From every blow that hadn’t quite killed me.

I took advantage of my weight and quickly sidestepped his punch which made him stumble past because his weight worked against him.

Then I drove my elbow into the base of his spine.

Not enough to make him drop, but enough for him to finally perceive me as a threat.

He whirled, snarling at me in anger. His shift rippled beneath his skin, claws lengthening bones reforming and his teeth sharpening.

No one stopped him.

Fight tooth and claw, or die.

I didn’t shift. I couldn't. But I used what I had.

Speed, anger and the desperation to stay alive.

I ducked beneath his swipe, brought my heel down on his knee with every ounce of weight I had. I heard him curse as his knee popped and felt the ground shift as he faltered.

I took a quick use of the opportunity and struck his throat with the edge of my hand.

No power behind it. Only defiance.

He fell.Not far or hard, but a fall all the same.

Enough that silence spread across the clearing.

Enough that Tion, watching with eyes like the end of the world, stepped forward.

He didn’t speak at first. Just looked down at me where I stood, panting, bleeding, shaking with effort and disbelief.

Then: “You’ve learned something.”

Not praise. Not kindness. Fact.

“You bleed. You break. But you rise.” His gaze swept the circle, daring any to contradict his words and judgement. But none did. They couldn't, not even Garrick, who sat clutching his ruined knee, his renewed hatred for me burning behind his scowl.

“You want a place here?” Tion asked, louder now. “Then take it.”

He pointed to the pit.

“Bury your weakness.”

I didn’t hesitate.

I took the shovel offered …heavy, rough, splintering in my palm and filled the grave meant for me. Stone by stone. Soil by soil. Until it vanished, the only telltale sign was a heap of soil at the top while everyone else watched in silence.

When I finished, I didn’t ask what came next.

I already knew.

Dante handed me a strip of cloth. Clean and fresh.

“For your wounds,” he said.

No smile. No sympathy. But a miniscule ounce of respect.

Tion watched me wrap my wounds. And he continued to watch me as I stood taller now than I’d been this morning.

“You’re not pack yet,” he said. “But you’re not prey anymore.”

The others left. One by one. Some with glances that weighed me differently now. Calculating, appraising but definitely not dismissing anymore.

Dante lingered after all the pack members left the clearing. “Rest,” he said. “You’ll need it. Tomorrow, we start again.”

I nodded. Too tired for words.

Tion’s shadow passed last. His voice caught me before he vanished into the trees.

“You buried the girl who begged for love.”

He didn’t look back.

“See what rises in her place.”

That night, I didn’t dream.

But somewhere inside, my wolf stirred.

Not free yet. Not whole.

But watching.

Waiting.

Learning.