Training
1059 Words
After the meeting with the Court, I stood on a balcony overlooking the city below. Lights twinkled in the icy darkness, a glittering reflection of the stars above.
“You did well,” Ezra said, stepping up beside me.
“Did I?” I asked, my voice flat. “Because it feels like I just signed my soul away.”
Ezra chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Welcome to the dynasty, Brielle. Nothing here comes without a price.” I sized him up for a moment then turned back towards the sky,
The wind whipped around us, cold and biting, but I didn’t flinch. If this was my world now, I had no choice but to survive it.
But I wouldn’t survive it on their terms.
“Then I’ll make my own price,” I said softly, more to myself than to Ezra.
His smile widened, though there was no warmth in it. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”
The training courtyard of the Winterblood Court was more brutal than I imagined. Its harsh landscape mirrored the unforgiving culture of my newfound family. Jagged icicles formed walls around the edges, and each sparring match sent shimmers of frost into the biting air.
Today, it was my turn.
“You’re moving too slow,” Lysandra barked, circling me like a predator. Her white hair swept around her like snowfall, an illusion of grace beneath which lay steel. “Do it again.”
My lungs burned, but I forced myself to lift the frost-forged blade and assume a ready position. The weapon’s weight still felt foreign in my hands, even though I’d been training for days.
Lysandra lunged, and this time, I dodged, barely managing to block her strike. The sound of metal clashing against metal rang out, echoing in the courtyard.
“Better,” she said, her lips curving in a sharp smirk. “But you’ll die like that in a real fight.”
“Encouraging,” I muttered under my breath, but she heard me. Of course, she did.
“If I wanted to encourage you, little Luna, I’d bring tea and praise your aim. But your enemies won’t. They’ll gut you without mercy. Should I?”
A voice cut through our exchange before I could respond.
“That’s enough, Lysandra.”
Ezra stepped forward from the shadows, his sharp features cold as ever but with a flicker of something softer beneath his icy demeanor.
“She’s my responsibility,” he said firmly.
“She’s not ready,” Lysandra shot back, lowering her blade. “Even with royal blood, she doesn’t belong here.”
“Her survival says otherwise,” Ezra said with a warning edge to his voice. “Get some rest, brielle. Tomorrow, we push harder.”
I almost protested, my pride rising to meet Lysandra’s scorn, but exhaustion weighed heavier than my ego. Without a word, I dropped my blade and walked off the courtyard, ignoring the hushed whispers that followed me.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. The pull of icy winds and the heavy weight of expectation kept me awake. I thought of Jason. How had it come to this?
Did he even care that I wasn’t in his world anymore? Or had Celeste already cemented her place in his life, his pack?
No. I couldn’t let my thoughts linger on him. Not when this new world threatened to destroy me before I could find my footing.
Meanwhile, days turned into weeks, and gradually, I began to master the subtleties of Winterblood training. Ezra often watched silently from the shadows, intervening only when I stumbled over my own doubts.
“You hesitate,” he said one afternoon, his voice sharp as the blade in his hand.
“Maybe because you keep throwing me into situations I can’t win,” I bit back, wiping sweat from my brow.
He tilted his head, amused. “How else do you learn?”
Despite his aloof demeanor, I couldn’t deny that he was helping me. I had gone from barely blocking a strike to holding my own against Lysandra—a fact that earned me no small amount of animosity from her.
Still, my world remained fractured. Each day brought me closer to a part of myself I didn’t understand, and further from the life I thought I wanted. But I couldn’t shake off the lingering thought that this wasn’t entirely my battle.
Jason’s p.o.v.
“You’re distracted.”
My Beta, Greg, stood in my office, his arms crossed as his amber eyes studied me carefully.
“I’m fine,” I growled, though it was far from the truth.
On the other hand, Celeste had been trying to insert herself more into my daily life, offering ideas for the pack, shadowing me in meetings, and dropping unsubtle hints about “our future.” It was stifling, unbearable.
But it wasn’t her that occupied my thoughts. It was brielle.
I still saw her in fleeting moments—when I passed the old training grounds where she used to watch, or when I glanced at the empty seat at Luna's table during pack meetings. The house felt colder without her presence.
And then there were the rumors.
“Are you really going to pretend you haven’t heard?” Greg pressed, interrupting my thoughts.
“Heard what?” I snapped my gaze at him with an arched brow.
“About her… and the Winterblood Court. Brielle is tied to them now. Royalty. Not some packless ex-wife.” My beta said with a hint of mockery.
His words twisted like a knife in my chest, but I schooled my expression into one of indifference. “She made her choice,” I said coldly.
“Did she?” Greg asked. “Or did you force her hand?”
I said nothing but my heart constricted as the words about brielle’s connection to royalty haunted me, as much as I tried to suppress them. My pack might call me a fool, and Celeste might sneer behind closed doors, but the truth was simple.
‘brielle was mine.’
Even if I had to shatter the icy fortress she’d built around herself, even if I had to go to war with the Winterbloods, I would bring her back.
Because no matter how far she ran, Brielle belonged here—with me.
- Writer
