Chapter 7: Training of the Rogue

The sunken stone amphitheater of Shadow Ridge echoed with the sharp clashing of steel, the thud of heavy boots on packed dirt, and the strained, ragged breathing of rogue warriors. Unlike the rigid, formal dueling style taught in the Bloodmoon Pack—where every strike was predictable, padded by ritual, and strictly dictated by rank—rogue combat was brutal, fast, and entirely unforgiving. Down here, there were no referees and no honored rules of engagement; there was only survival.

"Lower your center of gravity, Elora," Nikolai’s deep baritone rumbled behind me.

Before I could adjust my footing, his wooden practice sword swept low, catching my ankle with ruthless precision. The ground rushed up to meet me, and I hit the dirt with a heavy thud, gasping as dust settled over my sweat-slicked skin. My wooden blade clattered uselessly out of my reach across the arena floor.

"In a real fight, an Alpha King won't pause to let you find your balance," Nikolai said, stepping over me and letting his heavy wooden blade rest lightly against his broad shoulder. His dark golden eyes glinted under the crystal light, reflecting a sharp mix of strict discipline and quiet, unspoken amusement. "Commanders rely on raw, overwhelming power. You don't have their brute mass yet. You have to rely on speed, lethal instinct, and the ancient magic burning in your veins."

I wiped a muddy streak of sweat and dirt from my forehead with the back of my forearm, my chest heaving as my lungs burned for air. "Easy for you to say. You've been fighting for your life on the borderlands since you were old enough to hold a blade."

"And so have you," he replied softly, his voice dropping into a unexpectedly tender tone. He extended a large, calloused hand toward me. "The only difference is that your war was fought in silence, under their boots."

As my palm met his, a powerful surge of warmth rushed straight up my arm. It wasn't the volatile, searing agony of the broken mate bond that still flickered like a dying flame toward Lucas; it was a steady, grounding heat that anchored my chaotic aura. Nikolai pulled me up effortlessly, his grip lingering against my wrist for a fraction of a second before he let go.

"Again," I grunted, retrieving my wooden short sword from the dirt and squaring my shoulders.

For three straight weeks, the subterranean arena became my whole world. Under Nikolai's relentless guidance, I learned to harness the crimson mark on my collarbone instead of fighting against its violent pulses. Where my inner wolf had once been a dormant, silent spirit hidden beneath layers of shame and fear, she was now an active, ferocious force. She moved through my muscles, sharpened my reflexes to a knife's edge, and wrapped my physical strikes in crackling violet light.

By the end of the month, the fragile, underfed scullery maid who had crawled through the mud of the Blackwood Forest was completely unrecognizable.

During an intense twilight sparring session, Nikolai lunged forward with a lightning-fast feint aimed directly at my left side. Instead of panicking or stepping back, I let my royal aura erupt. A shockwave of brilliant violet energy burst from my palm, deflecting his wooden blade outward with a loud crack. I spun beneath his broad guard, sweeping his trailing foot and pressing the smooth tip of my sword directly against the side of his scarred throat.

An instant, breathless silence fell over the surrounding arena.

Nikolai froze, looking down at the wooden tip pressed firm against his neck, and then slowly raised his head to meet my glowing eyes. A dark, genuinely proud smirk spread across his rough jaw line.

"Not bad, little Crescent," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low, rumbling octave heavy with an intensity that made my pulse jump in my chest. "You're ready."

"Ready for what?" I asked, lowering the blade as my heart thudded wildly against my ribs.

"Word arrived from our border scouts an hour ago," Nikolai said, his expression instantly hardening into stone as he stepped back. "The Northern Coalition summit has officially been called. The ceremony is set for next week at the Bloodmoon Citadel. Lucas is finalizing his union with Lady Chloe to lock down their political alliance forever."

He closed the distance between us, his golden eyes locking onto mine with absolute, unyielding resolve.

"It’s time to head to Mount Voros, open the sealed vault, and crash their wedding."