IVY’S POV
I was walking past the training grounds when I heard Darius's loud voice carrying across the field. My stomach dropped. I tried to keep my head down and walk faster, but I could already hear him showing off to the other warriors.
"Watch this move!" Darius shouted. "I learned it from a warrior in the northern territories. No one can block it!"
I glanced up for just a second and saw him swinging his sword in fancy patterns. The other warriors were watching him with fake interest. Everyone knew Darius was more talk than skill.
"This technique could take down three enemies at once!" he bragged. "I'm probably the best fighter this pack has ever seen!"
"Impressive, Alpha Darius," one of the warriors said, but his voice sounded bored.
"Of course it's impressive!" Darius replied. "I'm not just strong, I'm smart. I study fighting techniques that other wolves are too stupid to understand."
I lowered my head even more and tried to walk past without him noticing me. But it was too late.
"Well, well, well," Darius called out. "Look what we have here."
I froze. My whole body went cold with fear.
"Slave!" he yelled. "Come here!"
I turned around slowly. "Yes, Alpha Darius?"
"I said come here. Now!"
I walked toward the training ground, my legs shaking with each step. The other warriors stopped what they were doing to watch.
"Actually," Darius said with a cruel smile, "I don't want you walking over here like you're some kind of equal. Marcus, James, bring her to me."
Two large warriors stepped forward and grabbed my arms. They dragged me across the field to where Darius was now lounging in a wooden chair like he was some kind of king.
"Let me go," I whispered, but they ignored me.
They dropped me at Darius's feet. I landed hard on my knees in the dirt.
"That's better," Darius said, looking down at me. "A slave should always be on her knees."
The other warriors laughed. Some of them looked uncomfortable, but they didn't say anything.
"You know what, boys?" Darius continued. "I was just thinking that my new fighting technique needs a practice target."
"Alpha Darius," one of the older warriors said carefully, "maybe we should use the training dummies instead."
"No, no," Darius waved him off. "Those dummies don't move. They don't cry out when you hit them. They're boring."
He stood up from his chair and walked over to me. "But this little slave here... she'll make perfect practice."
"Please, Alpha Darius," I begged. "I haven't done anything wrong today."
"You existed," he said simply. "That's enough."
Before I could move, his fist connected with my stomach. The air rushed out of my lungs and I doubled over in pain.
"See?" Darius said to the watching warriors. "Much more realistic than a dummy."
He hit me again, this time in the ribs. I heard something crack.
"Stop," I gasped. "Please stop."
"But I'm just getting started," Darius laughed. "I need to practice my technique."
He kicked me in the shoulder, sending me sprawling across the ground. Dirt filled my mouth and nose.
"Get up," he commanded. "A good practice target doesn't stay down."
I struggled to my feet, clutching my injured ribs.
"That's better," he said. "Now, let's try some sword work."
He picked up his blade from beside the chair. The silver metal gleamed in the sunlight.
"Hold still," he ordered, pointing the sword at my throat. "I want to practice my precision."
The tip of the blade pressed against my neck. One small push and it would pierce my skin.
"Please," I whispered. "I won't cause any trouble. I'll do whatever you want."
"You'll do whatever I want anyway," Darius replied. "You're a slave. You don't have a choice."
He moved the sword to my shoulder and pressed harder. I felt the blade cut through my shirt and into my skin. Blood started to trickle down my arm.
He raised the sword higher, preparing to bring it down on my shoulder again. Something inside me finally broke.
I couldn't take it anymore.
As the sword came down, I grabbed it with both hands. The silver burned my palms, but I held on tight and twisted it away from him.
"What are you doing?" Darius shouted, stumbling backward.
I turned the blade toward him. My hands were shaking, but I kept my grip firm.
"Don't hurt me anymore," I said, my voice stronger than I felt.
"You dare point a weapon at your Alpha?" Darius snarled.
"I'm tired of being your punching bag," I replied.
He lunged forward, trying to grab the sword back. In the struggle, the blade sliced across his neck. Not deep, but enough to draw blood.
Darius screamed and fell backward, his hand pressed to his throat. Blood seeped between his fingers.
"She tried to kill me!" he yelled. "The slave tried to kill me!"
The other warriors started moving toward me, their faces full of rage.
"Kill her!"
"She attacked the Alpha!"
"Traitor's daughter tried to murder him!"
I dropped the sword and rushed to Darius's side. Without thinking, I pressed my hands to his neck where the blood was flowing.
"Get the hell away from me!" he shouted, trying to push me off.
But I held on. Something warm flowed through my hands and into his wound. I felt a strange tingling sensation, like electricity running through my fingers.
When I pulled my hands away, the bleeding had stopped. The cut was gone. There wasn't even a scar.
Everyone gasped.
Darius touched his neck with shaking fingers. "What did you do to me?"
"I... I don't know," I whispered, staring at my own hands.
The training ground fell completely silent. All the warriors were staring at me like I had grown a second head.
Finally, one of the older warriors spoke up.
"She's a healer," he said in amazement. "The girl is a healer."
"That's impossible," Darius said, getting to his feet. "Slaves can't be healers."
"But we all saw it," another warrior said. "She healed your wound with just a touch."
Darius looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes. "I don't care what she is. She attacked me with a weapon. She tried to kill her Alpha."
He turned to the warriors. "Execute her. Now."
"Wait," came a voice from behind us.
We all turned to see Elder Morrison walking toward us. He was one of the oldest members of the pack, with white hair and deep wrinkles around his eyes.
"A healer is needed in this pack," Elder Morrison said firmly.
"She's a slave," Darius argued. "She's the daughter of traitors."
"She's also the first healer we've had in over twenty years," the elder replied. "These are dangerous times, Alpha Darius. We cannot afford to waste such a gift."
Darius's face turned red with anger. "Are you defying my order, old man?"
"I'm advising caution," Elder Morrison said calmly. "Healers are rare and precious. Perhaps... alternative punishment would be more appropriate."
Darius glared at me for a long moment. I could see him thinking, weighing his options.
"Fine," he finally said. "Bring her to the dungeon. Let her rot there until I decide what to do with her."
Two warriors grabbed my arms again.