Chapter 6

Aria's pov

 

Three weeks had gone by after I'd pledged my blood oath, and my body ached with each step I took. The morning light was so bright it flickers on the training ground and also drew attention to the new bruises on my left arm, my slit lip still healing all from yesterday's blows now torn open by Garrett's punches.

 

As my blood fell onto the packed brown soil, I fought to rise, wiping away the blood with my left hand.

 

The other outcasts gathered around the makeshift ring staring at me like I was the prey and Garrett the predator. Some placed bets while others watched for the fun of it.

 

Garrett paced up and down with confidence, feeling fly as a predator aware that its prey was lying on the floor hopeless.

 

His body scars told stories of the war he fought and the ones he endured. He manifested strength, courage, resilience, experience, and everything that I lacked.

 

“Come on, Princess,” he taunts, “Give me a challenge.”

 

I raised my hand but it was as heavy as a rock, my shaky feet could barely carry me up. For the last three weeks, I've been practicing and my body is at the end point of breaking.

 

Then I launched a punch at Garrett with the last strength I had, but he easily captured my wrist and twisted it to the point of breaking it. He threw me inside the dirt. Laughter erupted from the crowd gathering us.

 

“Weakling,” someone screamed.

 

“Pathetic,” the other jeered.

 

“I've seen pups fight better,” Another said, making the people's laughter increase.

 

From his position at the edge beside a huge tree, Raven's voice sliced the mockery.

“AGAIN!”

 

Struggling for breath, I stared at him from the ground I laid. There was no sense of compassion or warmth in his silver eyes— just some cold observations like a researcher would when he is studying an interesting course.

 

“I can't,” I groaned, as I coughed out the blood on my mouth, “I need a break.”

 

Garrett's sharp laugh which carried mockery interrupted instantly, "Poor thing!,” he said then turned to the crowd and continued, “The pack princess can't handle real training, maybe she should return to her cozy den.”

 

His words stung me more than the punches he had given me.  Embarrassment washed over me, my cheeks burned as I struggled to rise, using my last strength to stagger up on my feet but I was unstable.

 

Raven moved forward, “You're weak because you choose to be,” he said, his words carrying weight devoid of mercy as he circles me like a predator that smelled weakness.

 

“I'm trying,” I contested with a cracked voice.

 

“No!” Raven moved very close to my front, closer enough for me to see his cruel dissatisfaction in his eyes, “ This is the same excuse you make all the time.”

 

He held my jaw tight then whispered, “ Your parents died because they were weak. Just like you. Same blood. Same feature.”His words resonate throughout the training ground.

 

The effect of his words caught my breath, making the world spin for a short while.

 

“Don't you dare,” I warned, but he continued…

 

“They died for nothing,” he declared as cold as ice, “The pack they sacrificed their life for, discarded their daughter. They fought and bled, only for you to be exiled anyway.”

 

“Stop,” my plea was weak this time.

 

My wolf, Nyra, stirred inside my mind. She had been weakened and subdued by the severed bond and relentless training for weeks. But now I felt her rise, fueled by my anger and pain.

 

“They were heroes,” I asserted, my voice gaining strength. “My parents died to protect the pack.”

 

Raven's chuckles were cold, menacing.

 

“Heroes,” he scoffed, his laugh devoid of warmth. “Heroes are reasonable. They don't leave their children orphaned. They don't die for people who won't remember them or protect their children.”

 

A silver glow began to pulse behind my eyes, building as heat gushed through me. The watching wolves instinctively stepped back, sensing the shift in the air.

 

“There,” Raven said, dark satisfaction evident in his voice. “There’s the fire. Show me what you truly are.”

 

Power like electricity jolts visibly on my skin. My canine side teeth turned into long fangs, and my claws sharpened. Nyra came forth within my consciousness, strong and hungry for dominance.

 

Before I could control the rage burning inside of me, a new voice broke through…

 

A drunken rogue entered the training ground instantly, his torn tacky clothes reeking of cheap whiskey. He staggered forward, his bloodshot yellow eyes shot with cruel intensity, caused by too much drinking and limited sense.

 

The other wolves stepped backward scattered all around. This wasn't part of the training, it was different.

 

The Rogue moved forward, staring deep into my eyes and his lips were curled to what might have been a grin. “ Pretty little thing. Bet she got a fight in her.”

 

He seized my wrist instantly with his bruised grip, “Come on sweetheart let's go have fun on the tree.”

 

I struggled to break free from his grip but his strength overwhelmed me, then I felt his hand reaching for my throat and his stench breath made my stomach churn.

 

“Please, let me go,” I pleaded, genuine fear through my fury.

 

He didn't listen, rather he dragged me towards the tree, no one came to save me instead the rogue watched perfectly waiting to see what I'll do— whether I would break or resist.

 

That was when something within shattered.

 

It started building up slowly, and it was instantaneous. One moment, I was helplessly held by him; the next, Nyra surfaced, powerful and unstoppable.

 

My eyes blazed with silver lights, it was bright like the morning sun. My claws extended, shining like metal. Irresistible powers ran through me.

 

The rogue was shocked instantly, I didn't give him time to breathe a second before my claws met his throat.

 

I moved faster, a swift slash across his neck ending it all. His eyes opened in shock before he fell.

 

Blood sprayed on surfaces, shining in the silver light before it turned crimson.

 

The rogue's body fell to the ground, his eyes faded over with death.

 

Looking at my crawls covered in blood, watching blood drop onto the training ground. I felt strange as the Silver light began to fade.

 

“I... I killed him,” I whispered to no one.

 

Around me, the other wolves had knelt down in submission but I didn't feel their loyalty, just fear.

 

Even Garrett, who had mocked and punched me earlier, kept his gaze fixed on the ground.

 

The air hummed with residual power… and for the first time, I didn't know if I should fear myself too.