POV: Soraya
The Ashra training grounds wake before the sun does. By the time the first gold light spills across the sand rings, warriors are already moving like shadows—stretching, sparring, sharpening blades. For three days, Vienne has dragged me along with her to “observe,” though I’m ninety percent certain she just enjoys watching me struggle with eye contact around half-naked warriors.
Today is worse.
Kaide and Tazir are sparring shirtless in the center ring, muscles flexing in the rising heat. Raevan stands on the upper ledge overlooking them, arms crossed, posture carved from stone. He wears armor only at his forearms; the rest of him is all hard lines and quiet fury, focused entirely on the warriors below.
I tell myself I’m watching the training.
I’m not.
Every time Raevan shifts his stance, my eyes betray me. His shoulders move, the sunlight cuts across his back, and sparks crackle under my skin. I look away, then look back like a fool.
“Your eyes are loud,” Vienne murmurs.
I elbow her lightly. “Shut up.”
“Just saying,” she adds. “If you stare any harder, he’ll combust.”
I try to focus on Kaide and Tazir instead. Tazir is a whirlwind of speed, all sun-bright laughter and reckless strikes. Kaide is his opposite—steady, powerful, precise. Watching them feels like watching the desert wind fight the desert stone.
Their wolves ripple beneath their skin; I can feel it.
Tazir’s strike slips past Kaide’s guard, grazing his ribs. Blood beads instantly.
“Hold!” someone calls.
Kaide waves them off, but the trainees are already scrambling for salve and cloth. Tazir winces. “Sorry, brother.”
“It’s nothing,” Kaide says. “Just a scratch.”
He tries to stand—but staggers.
Before I think, I’m already moving toward him. Vienne murmurs “Careful,” but doesn’t stop me.
Kaide sits on a low bench, breathing hard. When I kneel, he scowls lightly. “Soraya, you don’t need—”
But the moment my hand touches his side, something inside me cracks open.
A pulse of light shoots through my palm—soft, warm, shimmering blue.
Kaide tenses. “What—?”
The wound knits itself closed under my hand. Skin seals. Blood dries. Pain drains from his eyes. The blue light fades as quickly as it came.
I yank my hand back. “I didn’t mean— I don’t know how—”
Kaide stares, stunned. “That was Zehrael healing.”
The nearest trainees freeze. Tazir’s mouth falls open. Vienne mutters, “Oh gods.”
From the upper ledge, Raevan’s head whips toward us.
In three seconds, he’s crossing the sand ring.
“What happened?” he demands.
Kaide answers before I can. “She healed me. Fast. Without herbs or focus.”
Raevan’s eyes find mine—storm-dark and searching. I try to explain, but I don’t know what to say. My heartbeat is too loud.
“I didn’t do anything,” I whisper. “It just… happened.”
He kneels in front of me, ignoring the entire ring of stunned warriors.
“Did you feel pain?” he asks. “Heat? Cold? Any burn along your arms?”
“No,” I breathe. “Just… light.”
He exhales slowly, shoulders loosening. The worry in his eyes almost undoes me.
“She didn’t mean to,” Vienne says from behind me. “It looked instinctive.”
“Zehrael abilities often are,” Kaide mutters.
Tazir whistles low. “Storm-born girl heals with a touch. That’s new.”
I stand abruptly. Too many eyes. Too much scrutiny. My skin feels stretched thin.
“I should go.”
Raevan stands too. “Wait—”
But I’ve already stepped back. He doesn’t follow immediately. The king in him knows when a crowd watches too closely.
Vienne catches my elbow and guides me to the corridor. “Breathe,” she murmurs.
“I didn’t want everyone to see,” I say shakily. “I didn’t want to draw more attention.”
“You saved Kaide,” she says. “Trust me, no one here is complaining.”
“But they’re staring.”
“Of course they’re staring. You lit up like a moonstone.”
She nudges me lightly. “Take the win, Soraya.”
***
By midday, the rhythm of the fortress pulls me along. I help in the armory, moving crates and polishing blades. In the afternoon, I join Vienne in the linens hall, folding desert robes and sorting washed scarves. The work should feel menial, but today it’s grounding. No one whispers. Some even nod at me respectfully.
Healing Kaide changed something.
I’m no longer just the strange girl they fear.
I’m the strange girl who helped one of their own.
When the sun dips, I find myself watching the training grounds again from a quiet balcony. Raevan is below, sparring with Kaide now. Their movements are swift and brutal, but precise.
I shouldn’t stare.
I do.
When Raevan knocks Kaide flat and helps him up, my wolf hums with something warm, confusing, dangerous. I force myself to turn away.
I need to fit here, not fall apart because of him.
Yet as I move through the halls, people nod. They greet me. They give me space.
For the first time since Saren—
I begin to feel like I belong somewhere.
Not fully. Not safely. But enough to breathe. Enough to hope.