Chapter 4: The Edge of Survival

The training yard was a pit of red dirt and sweat, hidden behind the high stone walls of the Midnight Moon fortress. The air smelled of dry earth and the metallic tang of sweat. I stood in the center of the ring, feeling small and exposed in my black dress. The sun was hot on my neck, and the weight of my pregnancy made every breath feel like a chore. I felt like a fraud among these warriors, yet the memory of Silas’s cold office kept me anchored to the spot.

Killian stood a few feet away, leaning against a wooden post. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and the scars on his chest looked like a roadmap of every war he had ever won. He held a small, silver dagger in his hand, flipping it with a casual grace that made my stomach flip. Around us, other wolves were sparring, the sounds of grunts and hitting flesh filling the air in a fast-paced rhythm.

"Pick it up, Elara," Killian commanded, nodding toward a wooden practice knife on the ground.

I reached down, my fingers trembling as I gripped the smooth wood. It felt heavy and wrong in my hand. I had spent three years holding ladles and lace; I didn't know how to hold a weapon.

Tanya, the Beta who had nearly choked me on the stairs, stepped into the ring. She didn't have a weapon. She didn't need one. She looked at me with pure disgust, her amber eyes glowing with a predatory light.

"The Alpha wants me to teach you how to survive," Tanya said, her voice a low snarl. "But I don't believe in teaching mice. I believe in testing them. Attack me."

I stayed frozen, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I... I don't know how."

"Then you'll die today," she snapped.

She moved before I could blink. She didn't use her full wolf speed, but she was still faster than anything I had ever seen. Her shoulder slammed into my chest, sending me flying backward into the dirt. The air left my lungs in a sharp gasp. I tumbled through the dust, the "torture" of the impact making my vision go dark for a second.

"Get up," Killian said from the sidelines. His voice was cold, offering no comfort. He didn't move to help me. In this pack, there were no hands to hold.

I pushed myself up, coughing out the red dust. My knees were scraped, and my heart was racing. I looked at Tanya, who was already circling me like a shark. She lunged again, her hand swinging in a wide arc. I ducked, purely by instinct, and felt the wind of her fist pass over my head.

She grabbed my hair, jerking my head back so I was forced to look at the sky. "Is this the 'Shadow' Silas threw away? You're not even worth the dirt on my boots. You're just a vessel for a pup that will probably be as weak as you."

Something snapped inside me. It wasn't my wolf; she was still silent and broken. It was the human part of me, the part that had been humiliated and discarded. I didn't think. I drove my elbow back into Tanya’s ribs and, as she gasped, I swung the wooden knife with everything I had.

The blunt wood connected with her cheek, leaving a red streak. She let go of my hair, stumbling back in surprise. The yard went silent. Even the sparring wolves stopped to look. I stood there, gasping for air, my hair a mess of tangles and dirt, holding that wooden knife like it was a holy relic.

Tanya touched her cheek, her eyes wide with shock. Then, a slow, terrifying smile spread across her face. "Maybe there’s a drop of blood in you after all, rat."

Killian walked into the center of the ring, stepping between us. He looked at the red mark on Tanya’s face, then at the fire in my eyes. He didn't praise me, but he reached out and straightened the collar of my dress with a surprisingly gentle touch.

"Enough for today," Killian said. His obsidian eyes were unreadable. "Go clean yourself up. You have a guest arriving at the gates, and you need to look like someone who doesn't regret her choices."

My heart stopped. "Silas? Is he here?"

Killian smirked, a dark, jagged expression. "He’s at the border with his elite guard. He’s demanding to see his 'mate.' Apparently, the divorce papers didn't feel as final once he realized his enemy had picked up what he dropped."

I expected to feel terrified. I expected to want to hide in my room and bolt the door. But as I looked at the red dirt on my hands and the wooden knife still gripped in my fingers, I felt something else.

I felt hungry for the confrontation.

Silas was coming to claim a debt he had already canceled. He was coming for the "Shadow" who had lived in his corners. I looked at my reflection. My face was smeared with dust, and my lip was split, but my eyes... they weren't the eyes of a shadow anymore.I knew he was going to be disappointed. The shadow was gone. And the woman who was left was starting to like the taste of blood.