CHAPTER 2 : STEEL AND SILK
657 Words
The morning ring was bathed in amber sunlight, dust dancing in the cool autumn air. Weapons lined the stone walls, but today, no steel was drawn.
Astrid stood in line, her hazel hair bound back, her ethereal features look pale against her dark combat tunic. The male students around her laughed, flexing their muscles, yet none cast a gaze of desire toward her.
“What a pity,” a Gamma muttered nearby, shaking his head. “She has the face of a goddess, yet she is useless to the pack. A mute girl who cannot shift is nothing more than a pretty ornament—one the pack must risk its life to protect.”
Astrid breathed slowly through her nose, burying the cold sting of their words deep inside.
"They are blind," Kael murmured softly beside her, his hand briefly touching her lower back in gentle comfort. "You are a highborn wolf, Astrid. Let them see it."
"Silence," a single command echoed across the courtyard.
Alpha Asher stepped into the dirt ring, his presence consuming the morning air. His golden eyes swept over the line of students from all different pack, stopping briefly on Astrid’s quiet form.
"Today is bare-handed combat," Asher commanded, his voice dripping with absolute authority. "No shifting. If you cannot survive without your claws, you do not deserve to carry an Alpha’s mark."
Clara stepped forward with a delicate, innocent flutter of her red-copper hair.
"Alpha Asher," Clara purred sweetly, her voice lacing the air with charm. "Allow me to spar with my tragic sister, Astrid. I wish to ensure she is not harmed... given how fragile her state is."
A few cruel chuckles echoed through the courtyard.
Kael stepped out, his voice laced with venom. "I will take Astrid’s place—"
"Step back," Alpha Asher’s voice sliced through the air.
Asher’s eyes met Astrid’s violet gaze. He saw no hesitation in her, no desperate plea for rescue—only a cold, sharp blade of focus waiting to be unsheathed.
"Astrid. Clara. Enter the ring," Asher ordered.
Clara smirked, stepping onto the packed dirt, her movements swift and fluid. "Do not fret, sister," Clara whispered as they faced each other. "I shall be gentle so you do not weep... though you could not cry out even if you tried."
Astrid did not speak. She simply sank into a low, weightless stance, her hands raised, her ethereal beauty sharpening into lethal intent.
"Begin!" Asher called.
Clara lunged forward like a striking snake, reaching out to pin Astrid’s neck.
Astrid moved not like a wolf, but like a whisper of wind.
She ducked beneath Clara’s strike, her body twisting with mesmerizing grace. Her palm drove into Clara's ribs, followed by a lightning-fast elbow to her sternum!
THUD!
Clara gasped, air exploding from her lungs as her balance shattered. Before she could recover, Astrid swept her foot cleanly across Clara’s ankles.
Clara crashed heavily into the dirt. In the next heartbeat, Astrid was over her, her hand pinned firmly against Clara’s throat, her violet eyes gleaming with cold, dangerous light.
The arena went completely silent.
No one dared to breathe. The "defective, voiceless" girl had brought the academy's proudest noble to her knees in three heartbeats.
Kael let out a breathless laugh, awe shining in his eyes.
Astrid stood up slowly, brushing the dust from her sleeves, her hazel hair falling gracefully around her serene face.
In the center of the ring, Alpha Asher did not move. His golden eyes burned with an intense, intoxicating fire as he stared at her. Deep within his chest, his wolf, Oak, let out a low, dangerous roar of awakening.
She is no delicate flower, Asher thought, his pulse thundering in his veins. She is a storm wrapped in silk.
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