The Cull
1169 Words
Kaela’s POV
The courtyard stank of blood and sweat by the time the last whistle blew.
My chest heaved, my ribs screaming with every breath, but I stayed on my feet, my boots planted on the cold, wet stone. My hood was back up, hiding my face, but it didn’t feel like enough. Not after what just happened.
I could still feel the boys’ eyes on me.
Feel the way their gazes had sharpened when my braid slipped free, when the silver caught the light.
My wolf pressed hard against my ribs, pacing, ears forward. She didn’t like the attention. Neither did I.
“Form ranks!” the instructor barked.
The courtyard shifted at once. Boys staggered out of circles, bloody and limping, some still grinning like they’d tasted victory, others pale with the shock of losing. Boots scraped over the stone as we lined up shoulder to shoulder.
I slipped into the last row, forcing my hands to stay still. Forcing my breathing to even out.
Forcing myself not to look at Riven.
But I felt him.
His presence was sharp as a blade, a constant weight pressing at my back.
The instructor stepped forward, his power rolling off him like a storm front. When he spoke, the entire courtyard went silent.
“Some of you fought well.”
His voice was calm, but there was no warmth in it.
“Some of you fought stupid.”
A low ripple of unease passed through the rows.
“You are here to become leaders. Alphas. If you cannot follow simple orders, if you cannot keep your feet under you in a fight, you will not survive here.”
He let the words hang, sharp and heavy, before lifting one hand.
Two assistants stepped forward carrying a chain between them, the iron links clinking like distant thunder.
My stomach turned cold.
This was it.
“The weak,” the instructor said, his voice like iron striking stone, “will be culled.”
The first name was called.
A boy two rows ahead of me stepped forward, his lip split, one eye swollen shut. He stood tall, chin high, but his fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
“Fail,” the instructor said.
The assistants grabbed him by the arms.
He didn’t resist until they dragged him toward the gate. Then he started fighting, thrashing, snarling like a cornered animal.
“Get off me! I won’t leave!”
The gates creaked open, runes glowing pale silver, and he was thrown out into the road. The sound of his boots scraping on the stones as he tried to dig in stayed with me long after the gates slammed shut again.
The next boy was called.
And the next.
One by one, they were dragged out — some silent, some sobbing, some screaming curses that echoed off the courtyard walls.
One boy tried to run back. He didn’t make it far.
The instructor didn’t even raise his voice — he just let his dominance roll out, heavy and crushing. The boy collapsed to his knees, choking on his own breath, before the assistants hauled him away.
“This is Shadowfang,” the instructor said. “You leave when we tell you to. Or you don’t leave at all.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
This wasn’t a school. It was a slaughterhouse.
A forge.
And we were the steel being hammered into shape.
I kept my chin down, heart pounding as name after name was called.
When mine wasn’t, relief hit me so hard my knees almost gave out.
I had passed.
I was still here.
But so was Grayden.
I could feel his glare burning into the side of my head, promising this wasn’t over.
And worse than Grayden’s hate was the awareness that someone else was still watching me.
Riven.
I didn’t need to lift my eyes to know exactly where he was. His presence was a weight between my shoulder blades, steady and unrelenting.
By the time the last boy was dragged out and the gates slammed shut, the courtyard was half-empty and eerily quiet.
Only those who’d survived the first two trials remained.
The instructor swept his gaze over us one last time.
“Eat. Rest. Heal. Tomorrow, we test your wolves.”
A ripple went through the remaining recruits — some grinning, some tensing.
My heart stuttered.
Testing our wolves meant shifting.
And if I shifted—
No.
I couldn’t think about that. Not now.
---
The dormitory felt too small when I finally reached it, the air too warm, my ribs aching with every step.
I pushed the door open, already half-prepared to collapse on the bunk and stay there until dawn.
But someone was waiting for me.
Riven.
He leaned against the window frame, moonlight spilling over his white hair, turning him into something carved from silver and shadow. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable, but his presence filled the room.
He didn’t speak.
Just watched me.
The silence stretched until my skin prickled.
“You fight better than you look,” he said at last, his tone calm, almost lazy.
I didn’t answer.
He pushed off the wall, slow and deliberate, each step making the space between us smaller. My wolf pressed against my ribs, ears forward, teeth bared.
“Where’d you learn to fight like that, Kade?” he asked, stopping just close enough that I could smell him — pine, steel, storm.
“Home,” I said flatly.
He tilted his head, gray eyes glinting with something sharp.
“Home. Right.”
He studied me for a long moment, gaze trailing down to where I kept one arm clutched across my ribs.
“You hide your face. You don’t speak unless you have to. You fight like someone who’s been trained since birth. And you smell—”
He broke off with a sharp grin that wasn’t kind.
“Different.”
My throat went dry.
“Never mind,” he said softly. “You’ll tell me eventually.”
He stepped back just enough to let me breathe.
“I’m not your enemy, Kade.”
“Yes, you are,” I said before I could stop myself.
Something flickered in his expression, quick and unreadable.
Then he laughed — low, rough, a sound that made my pulse kick.
“Maybe,” he said. “But I think I’d rather keep you alive long enough to find out what you’re hiding.”
And then he was gone, slipping out the door as quietly as a shadow.
I stood frozen, my wolf pacing, my heart hammering so hard I thought he might still hear it down the hall.
Tomorrow, they’d test our wolves.
Tomorrow, I’d have to find a way to keep the silver in my blood hidden.
Because if I failed—
It wouldn’t just be Riven Hale hunting me.
It would be everyone.
And this time, I wouldn’t be running to the gates.
I’d be running for my life.
- Writer
