Do Not Slow Down

When the morning bell rang, I was already awake.

The air outside was cold when I stepped into the yard. Mist curled across the ground, and the early light covered the stone walls in pale gold. Cruz was already there, stretching in silence. Ash arrived a few minutes later, looking as if he had just rolled out of bed but still ready to fight.

Brant’s voice cut through the quiet. “Today is about speed and endurance. You will run the perimeter in wolf form, then return in human form. First one back eats first. Last one cleans the yard.”

Ash groaned under his breath. Cruz stayed silent. I gave a single nod and followed them toward the shifting grounds.

The change came easily. My bones reshaped, my fur broke through my skin, and heat and energy filled my body. I pushed my legs forward before the others could get ahead.

Cold wind rushed past my ears as I ran. My paws struck the packed earth in steady rhythm, my breath deep and even. Cruz was in the lead, his dark form moving through the mist with effortless strength. Ash was close behind him, his pace wild and quick.

I kept my speed steady. Winning this was not only about running fast. It was about knowing when to push and when to save strength.

Halfway around, Ash tried to pass me. I shifted to block him, and he gave a low growl before surging ahead. I let him go. He was burning too much energy.

When the end of the perimeter came into sight, Cruz was still in front. Ash’s pace slowed just enough for me to pass him. My claws dug into the dirt as I pushed harder.

We shifted back to human form in the marked zone. The cold air stung against my damp skin and filled my lungs sharply. Cruz did not wait before starting the run back. I followed, my legs heavy but determined.

By the time we crossed into the yard again, Cruz was first. I was second. Ash arrived a few seconds later, muttering something about our long legs being unfair.

Brant smirked. “Good. Now do it again.”

By the end of the second round, my chest burned and my muscles shook, but I kept my place. Ash ended up cleaning the yard while Cruz and I sat on the bench with water bottles.

“You do not waste energy,” Cruz said, almost to himself.

“It is pointless if you do not know when to use it,” I replied.

Ash looked at us as he swept dirt into a pile. “You two sound like you are planning a war.”

“Maybe we are,” Cruz said, standing.

Training did not stop there. Brant moved us to sparring drills, pairing us together in rotations. I kept my focus sharp. Every strike and dodge was measured. Cruz’s attacks were controlled and precise, forcing me to match his accuracy. Ash’s style was wild and unpredictable, making me adjust constantly. Switching between them felt like switching between fire and ice.

At one point, Ash struck me in the ribs hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. He grinned as I straightened and slammed my shoulder into him, pushing him back.

“Better,” he said, breathing hard.

Cruz’s face did not change much, but I noticed his eyes following every move. I told myself it was not personal.

When Brant finally ended the drills, the sun was high. My legs felt heavy as I headed to the showers, but the ache in my body was matched by a quiet satisfaction.

In the dining hall, Ash dropped into the seat beside me, his hair still damp. “You are faster than you look,” he said as he stabbed his fork into his food. “Not faster than me, obviously, but close.”

I gave him a dry look. “You were last in the run though.” I smirked, earning a frown from him. Good, I got him too. 

“That was strategy,” he replied with a grin after.

Cruz sat across from us, eating in silence. The quiet was easier to handle than Ash’s constant talking.

Halfway through the meal, Brant came in and pinned something to the board near the door. Conversation rippled through the hall.

Ash leaned over to see. “Pair assignments for the trials,” he said. His grin widened. “Looks like you are with me, Rowan.”

I swallowed the last of my bread. “Lucky me.”

Cruz glanced at the board, then at me. “Do not let him talk you into something stupid.”

Ash smirked. “Sometimes something stupid wins.”

The rest of the day was spent on the smaller challenges leading up to the trials. The yard rang with shouts and the thud of training weapons. The smell of sweat and dirt hung in the air.

Ash pushed harder than usual, clearly testing how far I would go. I refused to slow down. Each time he pressed, I pressed back. Cruz trained with another pair, but I felt him nearby, steady in my awareness.

When the sun dipped low, Brant dismissed us. My body was beyond tired. Ash walked with me toward the dorms, his energy still high.

“You will do fine in the trials,” he said. “You fight like someone who does not care about getting hit.”

“I care,” I replied. “I just care more about not losing.”

Ash laughed. “That is the right mindset.”

We reached the hall outside my dorm, and Ash slowed. “Do not forget that winning here means more people will notice you.”

I knew he meant the other students. Wolves here respected strength, but they remembered every win and every loss. I did not want their attention, but I needed their respect.

Inside my room, the quiet settled around me. My roommate was out, and the stillness felt strange after the constant noise. I sat on my bed, letting the ache in my muscles sink deeper.

******

The next morning came like the others. Ash was already stretching in the corner, his usual smirk on his face. Cruz stood farther away, focused on tightening the straps of his training gear.

Brant’s voice cut through the quiet. “Listen up. Today is the first of your trial qualifiers. Fail this, and you can forget about the main event.”

A low murmur ran through the group.

“You will be working in pairs,” Brant continued. “Obstacles, speed, and teamwork. Your time and performance will be scored together. If one of you fails, you both fail.”

Ash grinned at me like this was the best thing he had heard all week. “Looks like we are stuck together again, partner.”

I did not answer, but his words stayed in my mind. If Ash went down, I went with him. If I made a mistake, we would both pay for it.

The course stretched across the far side of the yard. It had tall wooden walls, ropes, and heavy sandbags. The ground was uneven, scattered with shallow pits and narrow beams. It was not built to test only strength or speed, but control.

We lined up at the start. Brant gave the signal.

Ash ran ahead toward the first wall. I matched his pace, gripping the rough wood and pulling myself up after him. The cold bit at my fingers, but I kept moving.

The second obstacle was a set of narrow beams over a shallow pit. Ash crossed quickly, his balance steady. I followed, keeping my steps light and even.

Halfway through, I heard the sharp slip of a foot. I glanced over in time to see Ash wobble. My instincts took over. I reached out, gripping his arm hard enough to steady him before he could fall.

His eyes met mine for a brief second. It was not gratitude I saw, but an understanding that I would not let him drop.

The moment ended when we reached the ropes.

They were thick and rough, hanging in tangled rows. We climbed fast, pulling ourselves up and swinging across. My arms burned, but I did not slow down.

Ash gave a short laugh as we landed together. “Not bad, Rowan.”

“Keep moving,” I said.

The sandbag station came next. Fifty pounds each, carried across the yard without dropping. Ash threw his over one shoulder. I did the same, the weight pressing down through my bones.

When we reached the end of the course, our breaths were heavy but we had not stopped. Brant’s whistle cut the air.

“Second fastest time so far,” he said.

Ash grinned. “Second is not bad.”

“It is not first,” I said, though a small part of me felt relief. Second meant we had passed without failing. It was progress.

The rest of the morning was filled with cooldown drills and light sparring. My body grew heavier with each minute, but my mind stayed sharp. The qualifier was over, but it was only the first step.

By the time Brant dismissed us, the sun was sinking low. The yard emptied slowly as students went toward the showers or the hall.

Ash walked beside me. “You fight like you run,” he said.

I glanced at him. “How is that?”

“Calculated. But you are not afraid to jump when you need to.”

“Better than jumping without thinking,” I replied.

He gave a soft laugh. “That is what Cruz says too.”

I was not surprised. Cruz and Ash were rivals in almost everything, but sometimes they spoke like they had been taught by the same hand.

We reached the dorms, and Ash stopped at his door. “Tomorrow will be worse. Get some sleep, partner.”

I nodded and headed to my own room.

The hall was quiet as I unlocked the door. My roommate was gone, probably still eating in the hall. I took off my training gear and sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand over my face. My palms still burned from the ropes, my arms heavy from carrying the sandbags.

I thought about the course, about catching Ash before he fell. I had not done it for him. I did it because failure was not an option. Still, the look in his eyes when I pulled him back stayed in my mind longer than I wanted.

A knock sounded at the door.

Before I could answer, it opened slightly, and Cruz stepped inside.

He did not waste time with small talk. “Good work today.”

I blinked, looking surprised. “You were watching?”

“I watch everything that matters,” he said. “Tomorrow will be harder. Do not let Kieran slow you down.”

His voice was calm, but it carried some kind of weight.

He stepped back toward the door. “See you at dawn."