Episode 7
603 Words
The clearing Ryder chose for her training wasn’t wide, but it felt endless.
Twilight settled between the trees like smoke, curling through the branches and whispering over the forest floor. The dirt beneath Aria’s feet was cool, packed down from years of wild prints and broken roots. A single, twisted tree stood in the center — scarred by claw marks, its trunk split like a wound that refused to close.
She stood still, waiting.
Ryder circled her slowly, the same way a predator studies a challenge — not a threat, but a test. His arms were crossed, eyes unreadable, voice calm.
“Shift.”
Aria blinked. “I told you, I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
She bristled. “You think I’m afraid?”
“I think you’re clinging to the version of yourself that still wants answers. Shifting means surrender. You’re not ready to let go of who you were.”
She stepped forward. “That girl is gone.”
“Prove it.”
Her heart pounded, but her body remained still. The bond break had damaged her wolf, maybe even buried it. But something still stirred beneath her skin, coiled like a shadow just out of reach.
“I don’t feel her,” Aria said quietly.
“You’re not supposed to feel her,” Ryder replied. “You are her.”
The words sank into her bones. For a moment, silence stretched between them — until he tossed her a curved blade.
She caught it on instinct. “What’s this for?”
“You’re going to fight without shifting,” he said. “Until your wolf decides to stop hiding.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“She will.”
Aria narrowed her eyes. “You sound sure.”
Ryder smiled, the kind that wasn’t kind at all. “Because if she doesn’t… you won’t survive what comes next.”
He lunged without warning.
Aria dodged left, barely avoiding the sweep of his leg. She slashed with the blade, but he caught her wrist mid-swing and twisted. She rolled her body with the motion and struck low with her elbow. He grunted, staggered, then pivoted and sent her crashing onto her back.
The impact knocked the air from her lungs.
She gasped, vision flickering.
“Get up,” Ryder said coldly.
She pushed to her knees, jaw clenched. “Don’t hold back.”
“I’m not.”
Another swing. She ducked. Countered. He dodged again.
Each move he made was deliberate — not cruel, not careless. He wasn’t punishing her. He was pushing her. Forcing her to reach into something deeper than rage or pain.
Her shoulder screamed. Her ribs throbbed. Still, she kept going.
Until the blade was knocked from her hand.
He pinned her to the dirt, arm braced across her collarbone. She growled — not from fear, but frustration. Her body trembled beneath him, the fire in her chest rising higher.
“Feel that?” he asked.
She tried to speak, but her throat tightened.
“That’s not fear,” he murmured. “That’s her — trying to surface.”
Aria stared up at him, heart thundering.
“Let her out.”
For a moment, she didn’t breathe.
Then, it happened.
Heat surged down her spine. Her pulse throbbed in her ears. Her fingers twitched, curling like claws. Ryder’s gaze sharpened.
A low snarl ripped from her throat.
He released her and stepped back.
She rolled to her feet, eyes flashing — not gold, not silver. Something wild. Something new.
Her wolf stirred.
Not whole. Not fully shifted. But present.
And she was angry.
- Writer
