Rise of the Underdogs: VALIK

XII

The plane ride to Russia was uneventful unless you count me trying not to laugh at an entitled brat. No, I swear I’m being serious! This girl was dressed to the nines, expected preferential treatment, and got pissy when a baby cried.

I simply looked at her and said she was acting like a toddler and that the infant was better behaved than she was. It silenced her and earned me the airline version of a standing ovation.

Landing was smooth, though the cold hit me like a slap the second I stepped off the plane. The air smelled like snow and exhaust, and my breath fogged instantly. I tugged my hoodie tighter around me, wishing I’d packed gloves even though Logan said everything would be provided.

I didn’t expect to be met at the gate, but there he was — Prince Blaze himself, leaning against a sleek black limo like he’d stepped out of a magazine. His coat was long and tailored, his hair pulled back in a low tie, and his eyes scanned the crowd like he was bored of everyone except me.

“Valik Pierce?” he asked, voice smooth but clipped.

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to sound like I was freezing.

He opened the door himself, motioning for me to get in. “Welcome to Russia. Let’s get you settled.”

Inside, the limo was warm and smelled faintly of leather and something spicy — cloves maybe. The seats were soft enough to sink into, and the windows were tinted so dark I could barely see the city lights outside.

Prince Blaze didn’t say much at first, just handed me a bottle of water and tapped something into his phone. The silence wasn’t awkward though. It felt intentional, like he was giving me space to breathe.

“You’ll be staying at one of our private compounds,” he finally said. “It’s quiet, secure, and far from the noise of the capital. You’ll have everything you need — gear, tutors, training, and privacy.”

I nodded, unsure what to say. My chest still ached from everything I’d left behind, but the warmth of the limo and the calm in his voice made it easier to breathe.

“Do you know why I asked for you?” he asked suddenly.

I shook my head.

“Because you’re not just a rejected Mate. You’re a survivor. And survivors make the strongest warriors.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just looked out the window, watching the snow swirl under the streetlights.

Russia was cold, unfamiliar, and quiet. But for the first time in days, I didn’t feel like I was falling apart.

“Will I be following a schedule?” I asked.

“Lord Logan has, how shall I say this,” Blaze shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “He’s told me not to take it easy on you, but to give you space to heal when needed.”

He glanced out the window as the limo turned onto a quieter road, snow swirling past the glass like tiny ghosts. “Evenings are for your schooling. You’ll be assigned to chores and placed in rotating groups for mock fights and training. Everything’s layered — physical, tactical, emotional. It’s designed to sharpen you and your wolf.”

I nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of it. It didn’t sound easy, but it sounded fair.

Blaze looked back at me. “You’ll be pushed, broken, and rebuilt strong, faster, and smarter than before. That’s the promise.”

“I’ve been broken already,” I muttered. “Shattered beyond repair, honestly.”

The limo rolled through a quiet stretch of road, snow piling along the edges like forgotten memories. Blaze didn’t flinch at my words — he leaned into them.

“Then we rebuild on the rubble of the old to make the new mean something,” the Prince stated. “You will refer to me as General unless otherwise told.”

Nodding, I said, “Yes, Sir. And thank you.”

“For?”

“The opportunity to fix myself without losing my path or my place in my brother’s pack,” I said.

He didn’t reply right away, just gave a slow nod and looked out the window again. The silence felt like agreement.

In the distance, a grand castle sat on top of a raised plateau, the land below visible from all sides. It was a fortress of defiance and power, its spires cutting into the sky like it dared the clouds to challenge it. About four kilometers away from that point, there was another place under heavy guard.

The compound looked like it had been carved out of the earth and reinforced with steel. Tall floodlights lined the perimeter, and the ten-foot concrete and steel wire fence wrapped around it like a warning.

“That is where we will be going,” Blaze said as he caught my gaze. “Ten-foot concrete and steel wire fence to keep out unwanted visitors and keep trainees in. A mess hall, barracks, gym, and entertainment area. The seamstress will be waiting when we get there to fit you for the training gear you’re going to need.”

I nodded, watching the compound grow larger as we approached. It didn’t feel like a prison, but it didn’t feel like freedom either. It felt like a place where something new could begin — if I let it.

Training started the very next morning with a blast of a horn going off. It echoed through the compound like a war cry, jolting me upright. Getting up, I felt the eyes of the others on me as I neatly made my bed and tidied my area of the barracks without complaint. The air smelled faintly of metal and soap, and the floor was cold under my feet.

Then, a female approached, her eyes curious and her posture relaxed. “Hey.”

“Oh, um, hi,” I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sorry, I don’t know the language here.”

“Привет – it means hi,” she said with a small grin. “There is no distinction between gender here. Hope you do not mind.”

“Thanks for the linguistic lesson. You know, I’d like to learn more, if you don’t mind teaching me,” I told her with a small smile. “As for this place not seeing the difference in gender when it comes to skills, I don’t care. It’s the same with the Werewolves back home in Canada.”

She nodded, clearly pleased. “Good. You’ll fit in faster than most.”