POV: Araya
The morning after the steel wolf incident, Ronan takes Lucian to the training grounds. Araya follows at a distance, needing to see this but not wanting to interfere.
The training grounds are located in a clearing deep in the forest. Ancient trees surround it, their trunks scarred from generations of Direwolf warriors honing their skills.
Ronan stands in the center, his massive frame casting a long shadow in the early morning light. Lucian stands before him, small and fragile-looking in comparison.
But Araya knows better. Fragile is the last thing her son is.
"Today, we begin your real training," Ronan says. His voice carries the authority of a warrior who has survived countless battles. "Not games. Not play. Real combat discipline."
"Yes, Papa," Lucian says. His silver-gol
