Chapter six : shattered pride

Aria Blackwood....

The world came back to me slowly, piece by piece. First the smell—dried herbs, crushed roots, the faint tang of poultices burning in a pot nearby. Then the sound—murmured voices, low and anxious. And then the pain—sharp and throbbing, ripping through my side until I winced.

“Aria? Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

My mother’s voice cut through the haze. Warm, trembling, desperate.

I blinked my eyes open, the dim glow of lantern light filling my vision. My mother leaned over me, her dark hair escaping from her braid, her eyes glossy with tears. Behind her stood my father, his jaw clenched tight, and my older brother, Elias hovering with worry written all over his face.

“Mom,” I whispered, my throat dry and raw.

She let out a choked sob, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Oh, thank the Goddess. You scared us half to death.”

I tried to sit up, but agony shot through my ribs, forcing me to collapse back onto the thin mattress. My father’s hand landed gently on my shoulder, steady and grounding.

“Don’t move,” he said firmly. “You’ve lost too much blood.”

My memories came rushing back—the spar with Serena, Damien’s cold words, the rogues bursting into the training yard, claws tearing through my flesh. I swallowed hard, the taste of blood still phantom on my tongue.

“How bad is it?” I asked quietly.

My mother smoothed my hair back, her lips trembling. “Bad enough that if you hadn’t fought the way you did, that young boy would be dead right now.”

Elia leaned forward, his eyes wide. “You saved him, Aria. Everyone saw it. You were amazing.”

A bitter laugh tried to escape my chest, but it came out as a cough.

“Amazing?” I muttered. “Damien didn’t seem to think so.”

At the sound of his name, my father’s face darkened, shadows carving deep lines into his features.

“Damien doesn’t see clearly where you’re concerned. But the pack knows. They saw your bravery.”

I wanted to believe him. But the echo of laughter, the sight of Damien standing protectively in front of Serena, the feel of blood spilling from my wounds while his eyes slid past me—it all played over in my mind like a cruel song.

My mother pressed my hand, her warmth anchoring me. “Rest now. That’s all you need to do. We’ll take care of everything else.”

"is my wound healed?" I asked quietly

"yes the healer did the best she could, it's healed pretty well it'll not even scar your pretty skin" my mum said

For a moment, surrounded by them, I almost believed I wasn’t alone.

---

By the next evening, my body ached less, though the wound on my side still burned with every movement. My mother fussed over me, refusing to let me even fetch a glass of water on my own. Elias hovered like a hawk, eager to help, eager to make me laugh.

But when I stepped outside, wrapped in a shawl, the illusion of safety shattered.

The pack was buzzing with excitement, whispers carried on the wind. My heart sank as I followed the sounds toward the main square.

And there he was.

Damien.

Striding through the crowd with Serena on his arm.

She was radiant in a flowing red dress, her hand draped possessively over his, her smile smug as she basked in the attention. Pack members lined the path, bowing their heads in respect, offering words of praise.

“The future Luna.”

“They look perfect together.”

“Stronger bloodlines than ever before.”

The words stabbed at me, each one a dagger twisting deeper.

I had faced claws and teeth, blood and pain, but nothing hurt like this.

I turned to leave, but my father’s hand landed gently on my shoulder. He had followed me, his gaze fixed on Damien and Serena. His jaw tightened.

“Don’t let them see you break, Aria. That’s what they want.”

I forced my chin up, my heart screaming in my chest. “I won’t.”

But inside, I was crumbling.

---

Later that night, the Alpha’s call rang out. A gathering.

The entire pack assembled in the hall, the air buzzing with anticipation. Torches burned along the walls, shadows flickering across the faces of warriors, elders, and families alike.

Alpha Damien, tall and imposing, stood at the front beside the Beta and Serena. His presence commanded silence.

“Brothers and sisters,” he began, his voice deep and commanding,

“our pack has stood strong through trials. We survived rogue attacks, rivalries, and losses. But strength is not maintained—it must be proven.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. I knew what was coming before he spoke the words.

“The Annual Hunt begins tomorrow at dawn.”

Gasps, cheers, and growls of excitement echoed.

The Hunt. A brutal tradition where warriors were sent into the forest to track and kill rogues, competing for honor, recognition, and rank and also a way to get rid of unwanted and unmated and rejected female wolves, they are sent to the forest and hunted down by male wolves.

if they are caught, they are either mated or killed, if they are not caught, they are regarded as strong and fit to be in the pack

a brutal and savage tradition, many she wolves are mated forcefully and in suffering bonds because of this

Damien's eyes swept over us, sharp and unforgiving. “This year will be no different. Every warrior of age is required to participate. The Hunt will test your courage, your loyalty, your worth.”

"and every unmated females, rejected females, widowed females are required to join, it is not optional"

My stomach twisted. Required.

I was still healing. My side throbbed just from standing here. How could I possibly survive the Hunt?

the females were quiet and bothered

the males were happy and cheering

sick....

Damien stepped forward then, his golden eyes gleaming with authority.

“The Hunt is where leaders are born. Where strength rises, and weakness is cut away. I expect every warrior to fight with everything they have.”

His gaze swept across the crowd. And for the briefest second, it landed on me.

Not with concern. Not with recognition. But with cold expectation.

Serena’s smirk widened as whispers swirled around us. I could almost hear their thoughts. She’ll never survive. She’ll fail, just like she always does.

My fists clenched at my sides.

I couldn’t back out. If I did, I’d prove them right. I’d prove Damien right.

When the gathering ended, my mother rushed to my side.

“You can’t do this, Aria. You’re not healed.”

My father’s eyes were fierce, protective. “I’ll speak to Damien I’ll tell him you’re unfit to participate.”

But I shook my head, heart pounding with fear and determination. “No. If I sit this out, I’ll be worthless in their eyes forever. I have to fight.”

Tears filled my mother’s eyes. “Aria—”

“I have to,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Because if I didn’t… I’d lose myself completely.

---

That night, as I lay in bed, the pain in my side pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. The moonlight filtered through my window, bathing the room in silver.

Selene’s voice, faint but steady, whispered in my mind. We may be weak now. But we’re not broken.

I closed my eyes, clutching the thin blanket tighter around me. Tomorrow, I would face the Hunt. Tomorrow, I would bleed again. Tomorrow, I would either prove myself… or fall.

And as I

drifted into restless sleep, one thought echoed louder than the pain, louder than the fear:

I will not break. Not this time.

---

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