Fire and Frost
1280 Words
The cave was colder than she expected. Echoes of dripping water filled the silence between them as Draco led Luna inside. Despite the warmth of her wolf form during the journey, the chill clung to her skin now like a second punishment. Still, she said nothing. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her shiver.
He didn’t offer her food or comfort. Just a thin blanket and a place near the fire pit where embers still glowed from last night.
“This is where you’ll sleep,” he said, voice clipped. “Do not expect luxury. You’re not here to be comfortable.”
“I figured,” she muttered.
Draco glanced back, one brow raised. “You have something to say?”
She met his gaze. “Just wondering if being rude is your whole personality or if you save the charm for special occasions.”
For a split second, something flickered behind his eyes—amusement maybe—but it vanished as quickly as it came.
“You have got bite,” he said flatly. “Good. You will need it.”
---
Before the sun had even fully risen, Draco dragged her outside to a patch of hard-packed dirt surrounded by trees.
“Rule number one,” he said, tossing a long wooden staff at her feet. “Forget everything you think you know. Pack training is about discipline. Survival training is about instinct. If you hesitate out there, you die.”
Luna stared at the staff, then picked it up.
He attacked her before she could steady herself.
The staff smacked her ribs, sending her sprawling into the dirt with a choked gasp. She looked up, stunned. “What the hell? Why did you do that?”
Draco stood over her, unreadable. “That hesitation? It could have cost you your life.”
“You did not even warn me!”
“There are no warnings in the wild.”
Fury burned in her chest. She scrambled up, gripping the staff tightly now, her stance low. “Fine. Again.”
This time, when he lunged, she swung.
He deflected it with ease.
They sparred for minutes that felt like hours. Draco’s strikes were fast, unrelenting, but never lethal. He was testing her—pushing to see when she would break.
She did not cry. She did not beg.
When he knocked her down again, and again, she rose each time.
By the end of it, her arms shook, her lip bled, and her lungs were on fire.
“Not bad,” Draco muttered, tossing his own staff aside. “You have got grit. But you are sloppy. Angry. That anger will get you killed.”
Luna wiped the blood from her mouth. “You are not exactly sunshine yourself, you know.”
He smirked, just barely. “Good. Keep talking. It is the only thing keeping you on your feet.”
---
Draco gave her a task: climb the jagged cliff behind the cave with no rope, no help—just claws and instinct. The rock face stretched nearly forty feet high, scarred with sharp edges and slippery moss.
Luna stared at it, hands already scraped and sore from training. “You’re serious?”
“No one said rebirth was easy,” Draco said. “Show me your will.”
Gritting her teeth, she started to climb.
Her hands bled. Her legs cramped. Twice she nearly slipped. But she didn’t scream. Did not ask him for help. Inch by inch, she clawed her way to the top, muscles trembling with each pull.
When she finally reached the summit, she let out a long breath, the wind tearing through her hair. Below, Draco watched—expression unreadable.
She did not smile. She just sat there, on the edge of the world, and whispered, “I’m still here. Await my return.”
---
That night, Draco handed her a knife and nodded toward the woods. “There is a buck deeper in the forest. Injured. Track it. End it. Bring it back.”
Luna blinked. “You want me to hunt it? Alone?”
“You want strength?” he asked. “It starts here. With blood.”
She hesitated for only a second before vanishing into the shadows.
It took her over an hour, using every sense she had—scent, sound, the feel of the earth beneath her feet. She found the buck limping by a stream, eyes wide with pain.
Her hand trembled around the hilt.
But she did it. Clean, fast, respectful.
When she returned with the meat tied in rough twine over her back, Draco looked at her with something close to approval.
“Good,” he said. “You are learning fast.”
She met his eyes. “I am not the same girl who ran from betrayal.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You are not.”
---
After the hunt, Luna sat silently by the fire. Her limbs ached. Her body screamed for rest. But her mind was louder.
Draco sat across from her, sharpening a blade. The scraping noise was rhythmic, almost soothing in a twisted way.
“Why are you helping me?” she asked, finally.
He did not look up. “Your friend asked me to.”
“That’s it? Just that?”
“I owed her a favor.”
She studied his face in the flickering light—sharp jaw, scars along his neck, the hardened look of someone who’d seen too much and trusted too little.
“And now you’re training me out of guilt?” she asked.
Draco paused. “No. I’m training you because I see something in you. Anger. Pain. But also hunger. You don’t want to just survive. You want to rise.”
She blinked. That was not the answer she expected.
“I do not want revenge for just revenge’s sake,” she said, more to herself than him. “I want to show them what they threw away. What they crushed. I want to become so powerful, they will regret ever letting me go.”
Draco nodded slowly. “Then you are in the right place.”
---
The next day, training was even harder.
Draco pushed her beyond exhaustion—forcing her to run, fight, climb, crawl, and lift until her vision blurred and her legs threatened to collapse beneath her. Every muscle burned. Her skin was scraped and bruised.
But she kept going. Not relenting the slightest bit.
At one point, during a particularly brutal spar, he managed to pin her down. Their faces were inches apart, both of them breathless.
“You’re getting faster,” he said, not moving.
Luna narrowed her eyes. “You’re getting old.”
He chuckled—quiet and unexpected. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like someone with fire.”
“I’ve always had fire,” she whispered. “They just buried it.”
He looked at her then—really looked. “Then let it burn.”
—
That night, the dreams came.
Ryder’s voice. His betrayal. The moment their bond snapped like dried leaves in her chest. Serena’s laughter echoing in the dark. The murmurs.
She shot upright, gasping. Sweat clung to her skin, her heart thundering. For a moment, she forgot where she was.
Then the scent of earth and ash grounded her.
“You scream in your sleep,” Draco’s voice called from deeper in the cave.
Luna rubbed her face. “Yeah? Well, you are a joy to wake up to.”
A pause. Then: “You will learn to silence the dreams. Eventually.”
She did not reply.
But his words lingered.
Eventually.
- Writer
