Chapter Six
1102 Words
The training pits were never meant to be used at midnight.
But that didn’t stop me.
Most nights the Silver Ridge compound fell silent after the final patrols returned. Wolves retreated to their homes, fires burned low in the packhouse, and the Everly Woods settled into their familiar nighttime quiet.
Tonight the moon hung low above the trees, casting pale light over the empty training yard.
I wrapped my knuckles again and stepped into the pit.
The cold air bit at my skin, but the pain felt good. It kept my mind focused.
Punch.
The heavy bag swung violently.
Punch.
The chain rattled overhead.
Punch.
My breath came fast and sharp as I struck the bag again and again.
If I kept moving, I didn’t have to think.
If I didn’t think, I didn’t have to remember things like—
The way the compound felt without Blake’s voice echoing across the courtyard.
Or the way Zayne’s window across the way stayed dark every night.
Another punch landed harder than the last.
The bag creaked under the impact.
“Trying to kill it?”
I froze.
Leah Quinn leaned against one of the wooden posts at the edge of the pit, her arms crossed loosely over her chest.
I hadn’t heard her approach.
That wasn’t unusual.
Leah moved quietly, like someone who had spent her entire life listening instead of speaking.
“I didn’t know anyone was awake,” I muttered.
Leah stepped forward into the moonlight.
Her dark hair was braided down her back, and she wore the loose gray sweater she always seemed to favor when she wasn’t in the infirmary.
“I could say the same about you.”
I shrugged.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Leah’s gaze dropped to my hands.
Blood had soaked through the wraps.
She sighed.
“Of course you couldn’t.”
Before I could protest, she took my wrist and gently pulled me out of the pit.
“You’re coming with me.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding through your bandages.”
“That happens.”
Leah didn’t argue.
She simply raised an eyebrow.
Somehow that was worse.
Five minutes later I was sitting on a wooden stool in the infirmary while Leah cleaned the torn skin across my knuckles.
The antiseptic burned.
I didn’t react.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” she said quietly.
“I’m training.”
“You’re hiding.”
I frowned.
“Hiding from what?”
Leah met my eyes.
“Loneliness.”
I looked away.
Outside the infirmary window the snow-covered compound stretched quietly beneath the moon.
“Blake and Zayne are where they need to be,” I said finally.
“The academy is part of becoming Alpha and Beta.”
Leah wrapped my hand carefully.
“That doesn’t mean their absence doesn’t affect you.”
I didn’t answer.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
The compound had felt emptier since they left.
Zayne especially.
He had always been everywhere.
Training fields.
Council meetings.
Running the woods.
Sometimes it felt like the entire pack moved around him without realizing it.
Now there was just… space.
Leah finished wrapping my hand and leaned back against the table.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “most wolves your age would spend their nights sneaking out of the compound or flirting with patrol guards.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
“Instead you’re breaking your hands on a punching bag.”
I shrugged.
“I want to be strong.”
“You already are.”
“That’s not enough.”
Leah studied me quietly.
“You think strength will make the ache disappear.”
My jaw tightened.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
She moved back to the shelves, sorting small jars of herbs as she spoke.
“Strength is important,” she continued. “But it’s not the only thing that makes a wolf valuable to their pack.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
I crossed my arms.
“I’m not just Blake’s sister.”
Leah turned back toward me.
“No,” she said softly.
“You’re not.”
For a moment the room fell quiet except for the crackling of the small fire in the corner.
Then she added something that made me pause.
“You have a presence, Alexandra.”
I blinked.
“A presence?”
“Other wolves react to you,” she said.
“In the pits. On patrol. Even here.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Leah smiled faintly.
“It means wolves listen when you speak.”
“I don’t say much.”
“You don’t have to.”
She returned to organizing the shelves.
I sat there for a moment, turning her words over in my mind.
Finally I stood.
“I should get some sleep.”
Leah nodded.
“Try not to destroy the training equipment tomorrow morning.”
“No promises.”
As I stepped outside, the cold air hit me again.
The compound was silent.
Snow crunched beneath my boots as I crossed the courtyard toward the Hale house.
Halfway there, a voice called softly behind me.
“Alex.”
I turned.
Lexi stood on the packhouse porch, wrapped in a blanket.
“How long have you been spying on me?” I asked.
“Long enough to know you were punching that bag like it owed you money.”
I climbed the steps beside her.
“What are you doing awake?”
She shrugged.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
We sat in silence for a moment, watching snow drift lazily through the courtyard lights.
Then Lexi spoke again.
“I had another dream.”
I glanced at her.
“About Blake?”
She nodded slowly.
“It’s weird.”
“How?”
“He’s standing somewhere far away,” she said quietly.
“Like he’s calling my name. But every time I try to reach him I wake up.”
I nudged her shoulder.
“You just miss him.”
“Maybe.”
But she didn’t sound convinced.
Across the courtyard, the Blackwood manor loomed dark and quiet.
Zayne’s window was still empty.
My chest tightened slightly.
It had been months since the boys left for the academy.
Only a few weeks now until Christmas.
Until they came home.
I told myself I was just looking forward to seeing old friends again.
Nothing more.
But deep down, a small restless part of me stirred every time I thought about Zayne walking back through those gates.
And no matter how hard I trained…
That feeling refused to disappear.
- Writer
