Chapter 3:The dawn spar
810 Words
The sun hadn’t yet crested the mountains when Luna arrived at the courtyard. The stone was slick with frost, the air so cold it turned her breath into thick white plumes. She didn't expect him to be there already.
Harland stood in the center of the ring, stripped of his heavy furs. He wore only a thin leather vest, revealing arms corded with muscle and crisscrossed with white scars—reminders of the Red Moon’s cruelty. He was practicing with a massive claymore, the heavy blade moving in his hands as if it weighed nothing.
"You're late, warrior lady," he said without turning around.
"The sun isn't even up, Prince," Luna countered, unsheathing her twin short-blades. The Blood Wolf steel hummed as it caught the dim light. "I didn't think royals did their own dirty work."
Harland turned, his blue eyes tracking the way she balanced her weight. "In the North, if you don't do the work, you freeze. Are you ready to see why the Red Moon fears my people?"
He didn't wait for an answer. He lunged.
The fight was a blur of silver and ice. Harland fought like a blizzard—heavy, relentless strikes that forced Luna to use every bit of her agility to stay upright. Every time their blades clashed, the vibration jarred her bones. But Luna was a Blood Wolf. She was smaller, faster, and she knew exactly where the weak points in his guard were.
She dropped low, sliding across the frosted stone, and swung her blade toward his heel. Harland leaped over it, shifting his weight with a grace that shouldn't have been possible for a man his size.
He swung the claymore in a wide arc, forcing her back against a stone pillar. He pinned her there, the heavy length of his sword pressed against her dual blades, just inches from her throat.
They were both breathing hard, the heat from their bodies radiating in the frozen air. Up close, his eyes weren't just cold—they were focused with a fierce, burning intensity.
"You're fast," Harland grunted, his face inches from hers. "But you're fighting like you have something to prove. In a real war, that pride will get you killed."
Luna snarled, her eyes flashing amber as her wolf pushed toward the surface. "I don't have to prove anything to you."
"Good," he said, and for the second time, that rare, dark spark appeared in his gaze. He stepped back, releasing the pressure. "Because I'm not the one you have to convince. Tomorrow, the Red Moon scouts will be at the border. We don't just train for fun, Luna. We train so I don't have to carry your corpse back to your father."
Fury flared in Luna’s chest, hotter than the morning frost. She lunged at him again, her blades a blur of desperate strikes, but Harland didn't even raise his claymore. He simply stepped into her guard, used her own momentum against her, and swept her legs.
Luna gasped as her feet left the ground. She tumbled forward, her hands slamming into his chest to break her fall, and they both went down.
She landed directly on top of him, her face inches from his. The world narrowed down to the scent of pine and the sound of two hearts thundering in unison. Harland’s hands came up to grip her waist—not to push her away, but to steady her. They stared at each other, eye to eye, the icy blue of his gaze meeting her amber fire. For a heartbeat, the war, the packs, and her father didn't exist.
"Luna!"
The voice was like a whip crack. Luna scrambled off Harland, her face burning as she stood up and smoothed her tunics.
Alpha Silas stood at the edge of the courtyard, his face grim. He didn't even acknowledge their closeness. "Harland, a message just arrived from your father. Your men are to return to the Snow Pack territory immediately."
Harland stood up slowly, wiping the frost from his leathers. "What happened?"
"They caught a spy," Silas said, his jaw tight. "A Red Moon scout was found at your southern border. The war is moving faster than we anticipated."
The air in the courtyard turned even colder. The brief spark between them was extinguished by the looming shadow of the Red Moon.
Harland turned to Luna. He didn't smile, but his gaze lingered on her for a second too long. "It seems our training is cut short." He stepped closer, leaning in so only she could hear him. "Don't let your guard down, warrior lady. I'll see you soon."
Before she could find her voice, he was gone, following her father toward the gates.
- Writer
