# Chapter 4: Day One

I didn't sleep.

How could I? Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that text on my phone. *Next time you stitch a man up, don't leave your hair tie behind.*

He knew. Kael Thorne knew it was me.

So why didn't he just say it at dinner? Why didn't he stand up in front of his father and my mother and Margot and say, *This is the girl from the ranger station*?

I lay on my small bed and stared at the dark ceiling. The old clock in the kitchen ticked and ticked. At 4:15, I gave up and got out of bed.

I put on my oldest black leggings and a gray hoodie. I wrapped my ankle again, tight. It was still purple, but the swelling had gone down a little. I pulled my hair back. Then I stopped, because my wrist was empty.

My hair tie was gone. *He* had it.

I found an old rubber band in the kitchen drawer and used that instead.

Mom's bedroom door was still locked. I stood outside it for a moment and thought about knocking. I wanted to ask her about the Moonborn, and about why her face went white at dinner. I wanted to ask why I could never let anyone take my blood.

But I didn't knock. I just whispered, "Bye, Mom," to the closed door, and walked out into the cold.

---

The training field was behind the pack house, at the bottom of the hill. It was still dark when I got there, and the grass was wet and silver with frost. My breath came out in little white clouds.

I was early. Ten minutes early.

He was earlier.

Kael stood alone in the middle of the field. He was wearing a black T-shirt and black training pants, even in the cold, like the weather was scared of him too. His arms were folded across his chest, and when he saw me, he didn't smile. He didn't wave. He just looked at his watch.

"You're late," he said.

"It's 4:50," I said. "You said five."

"I said don't be late. Early is on time. On time is late."

I opened my mouth. Then I closed it. There was no point arguing with that.

I walked closer, trying not to limp. Step, smile. Step, smile. My ankle screamed at me, but I kept my face calm.

I waited for him to say something about the hair tie, or about the ranger station.

He didn't. He just looked at me with those cold gray eyes, the same way he'd look at a new guard he'd never met before.

That was worse, somehow, than if he'd shouted. It was like the bathroom never happened, and neither did the text.

"Rules," he said. "One. You do what I say, when I say it. Two. You don't complain. Three. If you want to quit, you say the word 'stop.' One word, and all of this is over."

He took a step closer.

"And you know what you owe me if you say it."

There it was. My heart jumped into my throat.

"I won't say it," I said.

"We'll see." He turned and pointed at the hill behind the field. It was steep, and covered in rocks and dead pine needles. "Run to the top. Touch the old flag pole. Come back down. Ten times."

"Ten times?"

"Is that a complaint?"

"No," I said through my teeth. "No, it's not."

"Then go."

So I went.

---

The first time up the hill, I was okay. My legs were strong from years of carrying heavy laundry baskets up and down the pack house stairs. I touched the flag pole and ran back down, and I felt almost proud.

The second time, my ankle started to burn.

The third time, I slipped on the wet pine needles and fell on my knee. The skin tore open through my leggings. I got up and kept going.

By the fifth time, the sun was coming up. Gold light spilled over the mountains, and I could hear the town waking up. Other guards were coming to the field now. Young wolves, strong and fast, laughing and stretching. They stopped when they saw me.

"Is that the Hollow girl?"

"What is she doing here?"

"The Alpha is training *her*? Is this a joke?"

I kept my eyes on the hill and kept running.

On the sixth time up, my ankle gave a sharp, wet pop, and the pain went white behind my eyes. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I didn't make a sound. Not one.

At the top of the hill, I grabbed the flag pole with both hands and held on, breathing hard. My whole body was shaking. My face was wet, and I told myself it was sweat.

Below me, I could see the big Thorne house on the next hill. The tall windows were shining in the morning sun.

Someone was standing in one of them.

Red hair. A long white robe. A cup of coffee in her hand.

Margot.

She was watching me. Even from here, I could see the little smile on her lips. She lifted her coffee cup at me, like a toast.

*Cheers, Hollow.*

Something hot and angry rose up inside my chest. It pushed the pain down, and it pushed the tears down, and it made my legs strong again.

I let go of the flag pole and ran back down the hill.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

On the tenth time, I could barely see. My ankle wasn't really holding me anymore. I was sort of throwing my body forward and hoping my feet would follow. I touched the flag pole one last time, and then I came down the hill so slowly that a turtle could have beaten me.

But I came down.

I stopped in front of Kael and bent over with my hands on my knees, gasping like a fish out of water.

"Ten," I said.

He looked at me for a long moment.

"Your knee is bleeding," he said.

"I know."

"And you're limping."

"I'm not."

"Sienna."

The way he said my name made me look up. For one second, just one second, his face wasn't cold. Something moved behind his eyes. It looked like worry, or maybe anger. But not at me.

Then it was gone.

"Push-ups," he said. "Fifty."

I dropped to the cold, wet grass.

---

Push-ups. Sit-ups. Running in circles while he threw tennis balls at my head and told me to dodge them. Holding a heavy log above my head until my arms shook like leaves.

The other guards stopped training to watch. Some of them laughed. A few of them made bets on how long I would last. I heard one boy say, "Twenty bucks says she cries before lunch."

I didn't cry.

At some point, the laughing got quieter. Then it stopped.

When the sun was high in the sky, Kael finally said, "Enough."

I dropped the log. It hit the ground with a heavy thud. My arms were like noodles. My knee was bloody, my ankle was the size of a grapefruit, and there was mud in places mud should never be.

But I was still standing.

Kael walked over to me. He stood close, too close, and he looked down at my face.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly. Only I could hear. "Really. Why?"

"I told you. I want to be a Guard."

"Why?"

I swallowed. I thought about lying, and then I didn't.

"For my mom," I said. "She's been washing your pack's dirty sheets for nineteen years. Her hands bleed in the winter. She never complains. She never asks for anything. I want to give her a real life before it's too late."

He was quiet.

"So no," I said, lifting my chin, "I'm not going to say stop. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever."

Kael didn't say anything for a long time. Then he reached into his pocket.

My heart stopped.

He pulled out my black hair tie and held it up between two fingers, right in front of my face.

"You dropped this," he said.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move.

He didn't give it back. He didn't say anything else. He just looked at me, and then he slowly slid the hair tie onto his own wrist, over the black leather watch, like it belonged there.

Like *I* belonged to him.

"Same time tomorrow," he said, and he turned to walk away.

"Wait," I said. "That's mine."

He stopped. He looked back at me over his shoulder, and for the very first time since I had met him, Kael Thorne smiled. It was small and crooked, and it was only for me.

"Then come and get it, Lark."

He walked away across the field. My face was burning so hot I was sure the frost would melt around my feet.

I was still standing there like an idiot when someone whistled behind me.

"Well, well, well."

I turned. Rhys was leaning on the wooden fence at the edge of the field, eating an apple. His blond hair was messy, and his blue eyes were sparkling like he'd just heard the best joke in the world.

"How long have you been there?" I asked.

"Long enough." He took a big bite of his apple. "You know, I've watched my cousin train a hundred guards. He's never smiled at a single one of them."

"He didn't smile."

"Sure he didn't." Rhys grinned. "Anyway, I'm not here for gossip. I'm here with a message. From Uncle Garrett."

My stomach went tight. "What message?"

"Pack your bags, little sister. You and your mom are moving into the big house." He jumped down from the fence. "Today."

"Today? Mom said this week."

"Uncle Garrett changed his mind. He doesn't like waiting." Rhys walked closer, chewing slowly, enjoying every second of this. "Oh, and you'll love this part. Uncle Garrett picked your room himself."

"Okay," I said slowly. "So?"

Rhys leaned in. He smelled like apples and trouble.

"So your bedroom is right next to Kael's," he whispered. "And the two rooms share a bathroom."