Chapter Five
1275 Words
The first few weeks after Zayne and Blake left felt like someone had stolen the center of gravity from the Silver Ridge pack.
Everything still moved. Patrols still ran along the borders. Wolves still trained in the pits every morning. The kitchens still smelled like fresh bread and strong coffee.
But something was missing.
The noise.
Blake’s voice used to echo through the courtyard before sunrise, usually arguing with someone about sparring rules. Zayne’s presence had been quieter but heavier—like a storm cloud everyone could feel even when he wasn’t speaking.
Now the compound felt hollow.
I tried not to think about it.
Thinking led to missing them, and missing them led to sitting in my room staring out the window toward the empty Blackwood manor.
So instead, I trained.
Harder than I ever had before.
Most mornings I was in the pits before the sky even started to lighten. The air would still be cold enough to sting my lungs as I ran laps around the training field before sparring began.
At first the older wolves had treated me like they always had.
Blake’s little sister.
Someone to humor.
Someone to go easy on.
That stopped quickly.
The first time I knocked a patrol guard flat on his back in front of half the pack, the tone changed.
By mid-autumn, the whispers had shifted.
Not mocking anymore.
Respectful.
“Alexandra Hale doesn’t miss a strike.”
“She’s faster than half the patrol unit.”
“I heard she sparred Caleb Mercer and won.”
I didn’t know whether those comments were meant as compliments or warnings.
Either way, I kept showing up.
It was easier to focus on the rhythm of combat than the empty spaces in my life.
Punch. Block. Pivot. Strike.
Move faster. Hit harder. Don’t think.
The training pits were already half full when I arrived one gray morning, frost clinging to the edges of the wooden rails surrounding the ring.
A few wolves nodded as I walked past.
Others stepped aside.
Six months ago that never would have happened.
“Late today,” Caleb Mercer called from the center of the ring.
I snorted.
“I’ve been here twenty minutes.”
“That’s late for you.”
I stepped into the pit, rolling my shoulders loose. Caleb grinned at me from across the dirt circle.
He was built like a mountain—broad shoulders, thick arms, and the kind of weight that made most opponents hesitate before charging.
I didn’t hesitate anymore.
Blake had taught me better.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Always.”
He lunged first.
His fist cut through the air toward my ribs, but I pivoted sideways, letting the blow glance off my arm before sweeping my leg low across the dirt.
Caleb lost his footing just long enough.
I drove forward and shoved him backward with my shoulder.
He hit the ground with a grunt.
A few wolves laughed from the edge of the pit.
Caleb groaned and rolled onto his back.
“You fight dirty.”
I offered him a hand up.
“You fight slow.”
He chuckled as he climbed to his feet.
“Blake would be proud.”
The comment hit harder than any punch.
I hid it by stepping out of the ring.
Across the training yard, someone clapped slowly.
Michelle Everly leaned against the railing, watching me with a thin smile.
She looked completely out of place near the dirt-stained training pits. Her dark green coat probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, and her blonde hair fell in perfectly styled waves that no amount of wind seemed able to disturb.
“Impressive,” she said lightly.
I grabbed a water flask and took a long drink before answering.
“Did you come to train?”
Michelle laughed softly.
“Oh no. I leave the mud wrestling to you.”
A few wolves nearby pretended not to listen.
Michelle stepped closer, her heels somehow staying clean despite the dirt.
“I just returned from the academy,” she added casually.
That got everyone’s attention.
The academy was nearly impossible to visit. Most wolves only ever heard stories about it.
“How?” Caleb asked.
Michelle lifted one delicate shoulder.
“My family is one of the founding bloodlines of Silver Ridge. The Everlys have… certain privileges.”
Of course they did.
The Everly family had advised Alphas for generations.
Still, hearing it said out loud made something twist uncomfortably in my stomach.
Michelle’s gaze slid toward me.
“Zayne is doing very well,” she said sweetly. “Top of his combat class.”
Relief flickered through me before I could stop it.
Michelle noticed.
Her smile sharpened.
“He’s also become quite popular with the daughters of the other Alpha families.”
There it was.
The blade hidden inside the compliment.
“Apparently leadership training leaves very little time for sleep,” she continued. “Though he seems to find creative ways to stay entertained.”
A few wolves shifted awkwardly.
I kept my expression neutral.
“I’m sure he can manage himself.”
Michelle tilted her head slightly.
“Yes,” she murmured. “He manages quite a lot.”
I turned away before she could see the reaction she wanted.
The infirmary smelled faintly of dried herbs and antiseptic when I stepped inside a few minutes later.
Leah Quinn was standing behind a wooden table sorting bundles of lavender.
Without looking up she said, “Michelle again?”
I blinked.
“How did you—”
“I can hear your shoulders from across the compound.”
I leaned against the table.
“She’s been visiting the academy.”
Leah nodded slowly.
“The Everly family has always had influence.”
“She enjoys telling people what she sees there.”
Leah finally looked up.
“And what exactly did she see?”
I hesitated.
“Zayne… enjoying himself.”
Leah’s mouth twitched faintly.
“He’s eighteen,” she said. “And surrounded by ambitious wolves from every major pack in the region. I suspect enjoyment is unavoidable.”
“That’s not what bothers me.”
“No?”
I folded my arms.
“She talks like he’s forgotten where he came from.”
Leah studied me quietly for a moment.
“The academy strips away comfort,” she said eventually. “It tests loyalty, patience, leadership, and restraint. Wolves change there.”
That didn’t help.
“But change isn’t the same as forgetting,” she added gently.
I didn’t respond.
Leah placed a small jar of salve in my hand.
“For your knuckles.”
I glanced down at them.
They were scraped again.
“Try not to destroy your hands before you actually need them.”
I smiled faintly.
“No promises.”
Outside the infirmary the winter wind had begun to pick up, rustling the branches of the Everly Woods beyond the training fields.
Snow was coming soon.
And with it, the end of the first year the boys had been gone.
I glanced toward the distant road that led out of the pack territory.
If Michelle was telling the truth, Zayne Blackwood was thriving at the academy.
Stronger.
More confident.
Surrounded by wolves who saw him as the future Alpha he was destined to become.
I wondered if he ever thought about the Silver Ridge training pits.
Or the girl still standing in them.
Because while Zayne and Blake were being forged in the mountains…
I was becoming something different here at home.
Something stronger.
And whether the pack realized it or not—
Silver Ridge was changing, too.
- Writer
