POV: Soraya
The training grounds were quieter today—no yelling, no barking commands, no clashing steel. Just the soft thud of paws against sand as young wolves practiced shifting in the middle ring. Their small bodies tumbled, rolled, snapped at the air with playful growls. It was one of the few places in the fortress where joy still lived, untouched by politics and fear.
Vienne had dragged me outside again. She insisted I “touch the world like it won’t bite you,” her words since sunrise.
“Storm girl,” she said, nudging me toward the ring, “you need to watch something innocent. Might remind your ribs how to loosen.”
I almost smiled. Almost.
We stood near the outer fence, watching the cubs—four of them today—wobble through their exercises. A trainer, a broad-shouldered wolf named Ranir, paced beside them with patient eyes.
One of the cubs, a tiny brown-furred pup named Nari, sprinted ahead too fast, her paws slipping in the sand. She stumbled, rolled, and let out a sharp yelp.
Ranir immediately shouted, “Nari! Slow—”
Too late.
Another cub crashed into her from behind. Nari flew sideways, slammed into a wooden post, and crumpled.
The world snapped. The air went silent.
Nari didn’t get up.
Vienne grabbed my arm. “Soraya—wait—!”
But I was already running.
The cub whimpered once, then went still, blood dripping from her small muzzle onto the sand. Training wolves gasped. Ranir dropped to his knees, voice cracking.
“Nari? Nari, stay with me—”
Her tiny chest fluttered weakly.
“No,” I whispered, kneeling beside them. “Please—no.”
Ranir looked up, startled. “Soraya, go back. The elders will—this isn’t—she’s dying.”
I heard him. I didn’t listen.
Something tugged deep in my chest, somewhere between my ribs and my throat. A soft pull. A whisper of instinct older than my name.
This isn’t her end.
Not today.
Not in front of her pack.
I placed my hands on Nari’s side—hesitant at first. Her fur was warm, sticky with blood. Her breaths were shallow, fading.
“I can’t just watch,” I whispered.
Vienne stood beside me, eyes wide. “Soraya… something is happening to your hands.”
I didn’t feel anything—at least not at first. Then warmth bloomed through my fingertips. Soft. Tingling. Like liquid moonlight pouring through my veins.
The glow started faint—barely a shimmer—then brightened until my hands glowed silver-blue.
The same color my mother once called Zehrael-light.
“What—” Ranir choked. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” I breathed.
Nari’s chest rose a little higher. Her pulse steadied. Her whimpers softened to soft, weak breaths.
My hands glowed brighter.
The broken ribs beneath my palms shifted—a soft crack as they realigned. The gash on her side sealed itself, the fur knitting together like time reversing.
A gasp rippled around the training ring.
“Mother of moons,” someone whispered. “A healer.”
“No…” another voice said, brittle with fear. “A witch.”
It spread fast.
“A Zehrael witch.”
“Cursed blood.”
“She’s using magic—look!”
“Get the elders!”
I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Didn’t care if the whole empire came running.
Nari blinked her little eyes open. Her tail twitched. She sneezed.
Ranir broke.
He pulled her into his arms, shaking. “She’s alive. She’s alive—how—how is this possible?”
Vienne crouched beside me, voice low and fierce. “Soraya, stop glowing. Stop glowing right now.”
“I can’t,” I whispered.
And I couldn’t. The light dimmed slowly on its own, fading from bright silver to pale smoke, then gone.
My hands trembled. Nari licked my wrist once before Ranir carried her away from the crowd gathering at the fence.
Too late.
Elders were already marching forward.
Maheli led them, her face pale but eyes blazing with dread. “Step away from that cub.”
I stood. “She was dying.”
“You performed forbidden magic,” she snapped.
“I saved her life.”
“A display of uncontrolled Zehrael power in front of children,” another elder hissed. “Dangerous.”
“She healed her,” Vienne said sharply, stepping between us. “That’s dangerous?”
“It’s unnatural,” Maheli said.
“What’s unnatural,” came a low voice from behind, “is the amount of stupidity you speak with.”
Raevan.
The crowd parted as he walked through, aura dark and crackling with threat. His presence alone shifted the air—wolves straightened, ears lowered, eyes wide.
He strode to my side, looking at my trembling hands before sweeping his gaze over the elders.
“What happened?” he asked Ranir.
Ranir clutched Nari closer. “She healed her, Alpha. She brought her back.”
A wave of murmurs rippled through the courtyard.
Raevan nodded once, jaw tight. Then he turned to Maheli. “Explain why your first response to healing is accusation.”
“That wasn’t healing,” she said sharply. “That was Zehrael sorcery. She could have killed the cub.”
“She saved her,” Raevan repeated, voice quiet but lethal. “Are your ears failing?”
“Her power is unpredictable,” Varen argued. “You saw what she unleashed in the marketplace.”
“I saw her survive an assassination attempt meant to drag her back to a tyrant,” Raevan said. “I saw her protect wolves of Ashra with no training. What I see now is a cub breathing who would otherwise be dead.”
“She’s dangerous,” Maheli insisted.
Raevan stepped forward, so close she backed up without meaning to. “Everything in these dunes is dangerous. Especially ignorance.”
“They have a point,” I whispered under my breath. “I didn’t know I could do that. What if next time I can’t control it? What if I hurt someone?”
Raevan turned to me, eyes softening only for a heartbeat. “Then we teach you control. We don’t cage you for something you never asked for.”
The elders bristled. “Alpha Raevan—”
“No,” he snapped, voice cracking like thunder. “I am done with your fear-blind judgments.”
He placed a hand at my back—not pushing, just guiding. “Soraya stays with me.”
Gasps spread.
“That is inappropriate,” Maheli spat.
“That is non-negotiable,” he replied.
He led me away from the training grounds, his presence a wall between me and the whispers rising behind us.
Vienne followed two steps behind, glaring daggers at the elders.
Only when we reached the inner walkway did Raevan finally stop.
He turned toward me, eyes searching my face. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I said softly. “Just… overwhelmed.”
“We’ll figure this out,” he murmured. “Together.”