chapter 2:Training with the Rival Alpha
1016 Words
The woods behind Blackpine Town smelled like pine and blood and escape.
I ran.
Cyril ran beside me. Silent. Fast. Like he’d done this a hundred times.
Behind us, the howls started.
"She’s gone! The prisoner escaped!"
"Spread out! Alpha’s orders!"
Damian.
My chest ached. Not from the bond. That was gone. From the memory of his voice giving the order.
Cyril grabbed my wrist. "Faster. They’ll track your scent."
"I know," I hissed. "I’m not stupid."
He glanced at me. "Good. Stupid gets you killed."
We didn’t stop until Blackpine was a mile behind us and the trees were thick enough to hide us. Cyril stopped at a creek.
"Drink," he said. "Wash your scent."
I knelt and splashed cold water on my face, my arms, the torn places on the dress. The water helped. The panic faded.
When I looked up, Cyril was watching me. Arms crossed. That scar through his eyebrow catching moonlight.
"You planned this," he said. Not a question.
I stood. "What?"
"Coming to the wedding in that dress. Wearing leggings underneath. Having this conversation ready." He nodded at the dagger still in my hand. "You knew you were going to reject him."
I didn’t answer. Because he was right.
In my last life, I walked in blind. In this life, I walked in with a knife in my boot and an exit plan.
Cyril nodded once. "Good. I hate weak wolves."
We walked the rest of the night. No talking. Just the sound of leaves and distant howls and my own heartbeat.
By dawn we reached the border. A river. On the other side: Graywood territory.
"That’s my pack," Cyril said. "My rules. My territory. You step across, you’re under my protection. Which means you answer to me."
"And if I don’t?"
"Then you go back to Blackpine and die in 13 days." He shrugged. "Your choice."
I looked at the water. At the other side. At freedom.
I stepped across.
The moment my foot hit Graywood soil, I felt it. Different. The air was colder. Sharper. Like the pack itself was testing me.
Cyril’s wolf hummed in approval. I could feel it even without a bond.
"Welcome to Graywood, Precious Vale," he said. "Now the real work starts."
---
Graywood Pack was nothing like Blackpine.
Blackpine was dated. Gravel roads, one church, everyone in everyone’s business.
Graywood was stone and steel. Tall gates. Trained guards. Houses built into the mountain. Wolves sparring in the courtyard at 6am.
They stared when we walked in.
"Who’s that?"
"That’s the Blackpine girl. The one who rejected Damian."
"Alpha brought her here? Why?"
Cyril ignored them. He led me to a small cabin on the edge of the pack lands. Separate. Private.
"This is yours," he said. "For now. Food comes twice a day. Training starts in one hour."
"Training for what?"
"For revenge," he said simply. "For war. For becoming the Luna I need."
He turned to leave.
"Wait," I said.
He paused.
"Why me?" I asked. "You could have any she-wolf. Why the girl who just humiliated the rival Alpha?"
Cyril looked back at me. His storm-gray eyes were serious. "Because you’re angry. And angry wolves don’t break. They break other people."
Then he was gone.
---
One hour later, I was in the training yard.
Cyril stood in the center. Shirtless. Scars everywhere. A map of every fight he’d ever won.
"Shift," he ordered.
I hesitated. Shifting hurt after the bond break.
"Now, Precious."
I shifted.
My wolf was smaller than I remembered. Thinner. The silver fur dull.
Cyril shifted too. Massive. Black with gray streaks. Bigger than Damien had ever been.
He circled me. "You’re weak. Your pack coddled you."
I snarled.
"Good," he said, and lunged.
The next 3 hours were hell.
He threw me. He pinned me. He taught me how to fight without claws. How to use weight. How to bite and not let go.
"You’re not fighting like a girl who wants revenge," he growled, his paw on my throat. "You’re fighting like a girl who’s scared."
I snapped. Shifted back. Tackled him to the ground. Human. Furious.
"I’m not scared!" I screamed. "He chose her! My sister! In front of everyone! And you think I’m scared?!"
Cyril didn’t move. He just looked up at me. Breathing hard.
"Then prove it," he said quietly. "Stop crying about it and use it."
Something in me broke. And rebuilt.
I nodded.
"Again," I said.
He smiled. Just a little. "That’s my girl."
The words shouldn’t have done anything. But they did.
---
Night fell. I was bruised, sore, and starving.
Cyril brought me food himself. Bread, meat, water.
"Tomorrow we do weapons," he said, sitting on my porch steps. Not coming in. Respecting the line.
"And after that?"
"After that we plan how to take Blackpine back."
I sat beside him. Close but not touching. "You hate him."
"I hate what he did to you," Cyril corrected. "I don’t know him."
"But you want his territory."
"I want peace," he said. "And peace doesn’t happen while a weak Alpha sits on that throne."
Silence. The moon was rising again.
"Thank you," I said finally. "For getting me out."
Cyril looked at me. Really looked. "Don’t thank me yet. In two weeks Cade will come for you. And when he does, I need you to be ready to kill him."
The words hit like ice.
"Can you?" he asked.
I thought of Liora’s smile. Of Damien’s hesitation. Of the knife at my throat in my last life.
"Yes," I said.
Cyril stood. "Good. Get some sleep, Precious."
He walked away.
I watched him go. The rival Alpha. The man who saved me. The man who wanted to use me.
And for the first time since I was reborn, I didn’t feel alone.
I felt dangerous.
---
That night I dreamed of the wedding again.
But this time, when I rejected him, he didn’t get to speak.
This time, I was the one walking away.
This time, I had Cyril behind me.
I woke up before sunrise. Sore. Ready.
- Writer
