CHAPTER 1: TRAINING
912 Words
ARIA’S POV
Mooncrest Pack
I was the only girl in the Mooncrest Pack who didn’t have a wolf.
And today, they were going to remind me of it.
The thought followed me even before my eyes opened.
I pushed myself upright on the narrow bed, every muscle aching from yesterday’s drills. The ache had settled deep into my bones, heavy and familiar. I swallowed the groan rising in my throat. Complaining wouldn’t change anything. It never had.
Another day of training.
Another reminder of what I lacked.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet touching the cold wooden floor. The small room smelled of dried herbs and woodsmoke, a scent that had followed me all my life. Familiar. Safe. I tied my blonde curls into a tight ponytail, my fingers brushing the crescent-shaped birthmark hidden behind my ear.
You’re special, my mother used to say, her voice soft with certainty.
She’d been gone for years. Whatever she meant by that, she never stayed long enough to explain.
“Aria.”
My father’s voice drifted from the kitchen—gruff, clipped. Worry disguised as irritation. He rarely raised his voice, rarely showed emotion. Living with the pack’s doctor had taught me early that feelings were treated like wounds: acknowledged briefly, then bound tightly and hidden.
I dressed quickly and joined him downstairs. A bowl of porridge sat on the table, steam curling into the air alongside the sharp scent of roasted herbs.
“You’re late,” he said without looking at me.
“I’m not,” I muttered, lifting my mug of tea. “Just awake.”
He snorted softly and turned back to the hearth. That was as close to affection as my father ever came.
The training ground was already alive with movement when Ezra and I arrived.
Wolves my age stretched and laughed, shifting stances with effortless confidence. Their energy filled the air, sharp and vibrant—everything I wasn’t.
“Late again,” Ezra teased, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed. “Want me to carry you?”
I shoved him lightly. “Don’t tempt me.”
He laughed easily. Ezra always carried confidence like it was part of his bones. I envied him for that, envied how naturally he belonged.
Everyone else my age had learned to look through me, as if I were something half-formed. Ezra never had.
Then I saw him.
Kaius.
Tall and composed, standing at the center of the field as if it had been built around him. His amber eyes swept over the trainees, sharp and assessing. Beside him stood Liora—Beta Torren’s perfect daughter, her golden hair braided flawlessly, her hand brushing his arm as if it belonged there.
My stomach tightened.
Ezra squeezed my shoulder. “Focus,” he murmured.
“Positions!” Beta Torren barked.
We formed lines. I mirrored the stance beside me, fists clenched, feet planted, but my balance wavered almost immediately. My body lagged half a second behind my intention.
A quiet laugh spread through the group.
“She’s still off-balance,” Liora said, not bothering to lower her voice. “Does she ever improve?”
Heat flooded my face. I forced myself to keep moving, every step deliberate, every breath controlled.
Kaius passed by without meeting my gaze.
That hurt more than her words.
We had once been inseparable—until my coming-of-age ceremony. Until the night everyone shifted… and I didn’t. No wolf. No power. Just silence and a hundred watching eyes. After that, something between us broke. His smiles faded. His warmth vanished.
Liora brushed past me, fast and flawless.
“Careful, Aria,” she said sweetly. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the Alpha’s son.”
Something inside me snapped, not outwardly, not enough for anyone to see, but deep in my chest. I pushed harder. Ignored the burn in my muscles. Ignored the tremor in my legs.
I refused to be nothing.
When the drills ended, my legs trembled beneath me.
As the pack dispersed, I felt it—Kaius’s gaze lingering, just a second longer than necessary. My chest ached in response, a pull I didn’t understand and didn’t want.
Liora stepped into my path.
“You should stick to lighter drills,” she said softly, her smile sharp. “Not everyone is meant for this.”
I didn’t answer. I turned and left the field before the sting in my eyes could betray me.
Ezra followed me partway. “I’ll see you later,” he said gently, reading the silence I wrapped around myself.
I nodded and disappeared into the forest.
The hut was hidden between the trees—quiet, forgotten, untouched by the pack’s judgment. Safe.
I sank onto the wooden floor, exhaustion dragging me under before I could think.
When I woke, moonlight sliced through the cracks in the walls.
The forest was silent.
Too silent.
I stepped outside—and froze.
Something moved behind the trees.
Not man.
Not wolf.
Fear slammed into my chest. I turned and ran.
Branches tore at my skin as the pack house came into view. Relief surged—
Then my foot slipped.
The ground vanished beneath me.
A hand closed around my wrist, yanking me back hard enough to steal my breath.
I slammed into a solid chest. A powerful scent filled my lungs—dark, commanding, unfamiliar.
I froze.
A low voice spoke against my ear.
“Aria.”
- Writer
