The Enemy Within
845 Words
To the storm she was becoming.
That thought stayed with Aria long after the training had ended and the fire pits had died down. She stood alone beneath the cold moonlight, eyes fixed on the forest that surrounded Blackthorn like a wall of secrets. Her breath came in slow clouds, her body sore, but her spirit—unshaken.
Every day, she was being reshaped. And every day, she stepped further from who she once was.
The dawn broke colder than usual.
Aria stood in the center of the training yard, wooden blade in hand, as the other warriors formed their sparring circles. She was no longer the outsider who had arrived bloodied and lost. She was something else now—unproven, but noticed.
Lucian watched from the edge, silent as ever. Beside her, Raven adjusted her grip on a training staff.
“Ready to bleed again?” she asked with a wry smirk.
Aria’s lips twitched. “If it means earning respect, then yes.”
“Good. Because they’re watching.”
They began. The strikes came hard and fast—Raven held nothing back. Aria ducked, deflected, landed two solid hits before getting swept off her feet by a low kick.
“Faster,” Raven snapped.
Aria rose without complaint.
“Again.”
They moved like fire and shadow, and though Aria took her share of bruises, she didn’t fall again.
When the session ended, Raven leaned closer. “They’ll stop doubting soon.”
Aria barely managed a breathless smile. “I don’t care if they doubt me.”
Raven raised an eyebrow. “Liar.”
***
Across the yard, two Blackthorn warriors—Kade and Sorin—spoke in hushed tones.
“She’s trouble,” Kade muttered.
“She’s a liability,” Sorin replied. “Lucian’s protecting her for a reason. But what happens when she snaps?”
“She won’t make it past next week.”
Lucian’s gaze found them from across the field. He said nothing—but they fell silent.
***
Later that day, Lucian approached Aria as she rinsed her hands at the well.
“You fight like someone with something to prove,” he said.
“I do.”
He studied her for a beat. “Tomorrow, you ride with us.”
“Where?”
“Eastern border. There’s movement. Could be rogues, could be worse.”
Raven stepped in, frowning. “She’s not ready.”
Lucian didn’t take his eyes off Aria. “Then it’s time she is.”
***
By sunrise, the pack's patrol was assembled and mounted. Aria’s heart pounded as she rode behind Lucian and Raven, her mind replaying everything she’d learned in the last week. Her body ached, but adrenaline dulled the pain.
The forest was too quiet.
The scouts led them deeper into the trees, where broken branches and scorched earth painted a clear picture: someone had passed through here—and recently.
That’s when the first arrow came.
Screams. Shouts. Steel clashing with claw.
Aria barely had time to react before a rogue leapt from the shadows, jaws snapping. She rolled beneath it, slashing upward with her blade—catching its side.
Blood sprayed.
Another rogue charged. This time, she didn’t wait. She met him head-on, sidestepped, then rammed her shoulder into his ribs. He went down.
All around her, the Blackthorn warriors fought like ghosts—silent, efficient, deadly. But not invincible.
One of their own fell with a cry.
Aria’s pulse thundered. She’d been here before—Moonfire’s last night. She couldn’t let it happen again.
She fought beside Raven, covering her blind side as more attackers emerged from the trees. It wasn’t just a rogue ambush—it was a message.
When the battle finally ended, Lucian stood over a slain rogue, expression grim.
“They knew we were coming,” he muttered.
Raven crouched beside a strange sigil carved into a tree. “This is Cade’s doing.”
Lucian nodded. “He’s testing our defenses.”
Aria stepped closer, heart pounding.
“Or he’s testing mine.”
Lucian turned to her. “He knows you’re here.”
“So what happens now?”
Lucian’s voice was low. “Now, he waits for you to make a move.”
***
That night, as the pack tended to their wounded, Aria stood at the cliffs overlooking the valley. The cold wind lashed her skin, but she barely felt it.
Lucian joined her.
“You could leave, you know. Disappear. Find peace somewhere.”
Aria shook her head. “There’s no peace for people like me. Not anymore.”
“You’re becoming dangerous.”
“To him?”
Lucian’s gaze was unreadable. “To everyone.”
She didn’t respond. Not immediately.
Then, quietly, “Let him come. I won’t run again.”
Lucian’s expression softened for a fleeting moment. “I believe you.”
Far below, the forest stirred. Wolves howled into the night—echoing through the trees like a warning.
Aria didn’t flinch.
This was war.
And she wasn’t afraid of the enemy anymore.
She was becoming one.
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- Writer
