CHAPTER 82 — Soraya’s Training Intensifies

POV: Soraya

Kaide waited for me at the entrance of the eastern tower, arms crossed, expression stern in a way that made him look ten years older. Sunlight spilled behind him, catching the silver flecks in his hair. He didn’t greet me. He only reached for my wrist, his grip firm but gentle, and guided me inside without a word.

The tower was cooler than the rest of the fortress, carved from pale stone veined with blue. We climbed a narrow staircase that spiraled upward endlessly, each step tightening something in my chest. Finally, Kaide stopped at a small wooden door reinforced with metal bands.

“This room hasn’t been opened since Raevan’s father ruled,” he said quietly. “Before the wars. Before Ashra lost half its libraries.”

He unlocked the door.

Inside, the air tasted of dust and ancient magic. Shelves lined the walls, filled with scrolls wrapped in faded cloth, maps flaking at the edges, and brittle books bound with desert leather. A single circular window painted the room gold.

Kaide stepped inside first, motioning for me to follow. “I found these three days ago,” he said. “Hidden behind an old weapons rack. No one in the fortress remembers they existed.”

“Why show me?”

His eyes softened. “Because they were written for wolves like you. For Zehrael-born.” He lifted a bundle of scrolls gently, as if they were glass. “And because you’re drowning, Soraya. In power. In guilt. In everything that’s happening around you.”

I didn’t deny it.

Kaide spread the scrolls across a low stone table. The parchment was cracked but still legible, covered in flowing, ancient script.

My breath caught. “These are… Zehrael texts?”

“Original ones,” he confirmed. “From before the purge, when the Zehrael tribe still lived freely in the dunes.”

My fingers trembled as I touched the edge of the first scroll. The script shimmered faintly beneath my skin, responding to me—recognizing me. A spark of warmth traveled through my fingertips.

Kaide watched me carefully. “It reacts to your bloodline.”

I nodded, throat tight. “What do they say?”

He pulled one closer, scanning the delicate characters. “This one describes the phases of Zehrael awakening. Telepathy. Healing. Wolf-shifting. Energy bursts.” He pointed to a symbol—a crescent moon above a flame. “This is the sign you manifested when you first shifted.”

I remembered it vividly—the blinding silver light, the monstrous shape of my wolf, the fear and awe in every warrior’s face.

Kaide continued, “Zehrael wolves weren’t just warriors. They were conduits. Their powers answered emotional imbalance: fear, grief… heartbreak.” His eyes flicked to me meaningfully.

Heat crawled up my neck. “My emotions don’t matter. I need control.”

“They matter more than anything,” he said firmly. “Your powers feed on them. Without balance, you risk destroying yourself—or worse.”

I turned away, staring at the dust dancing in the sunlight.

Kaide’s tone softened. “I’m not here to lecture you about Raevan.”

I stiffened anyway.

He sighed. “But I am here to help you understand why you’re spiraling. You’ve been hurt. Betrayed. Confused. And you keep carrying everything alone.”

“I’m tired of talking about him.” My voice cracked. “I’m tired of caring.”

“I know.” Kaide moved to stand beside me. “But ignoring the wound doesn’t heal it. It makes it rot.”

His bluntness made my chest ache. I took a shaky breath. “He’s having a child, Kaide. Not just with someone else—but with the woman who tried to kill me. I can’t even think about him without—” My throat closed.

Kaide placed his hand on the table between us, close but not touching. “Without feeling like you’re breaking.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “Yes.”

He hesitated for a heartbeat, then pulled another scroll forward. “Then let’s give you something else to think about.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Your power.” He tapped the scroll. “Your survival. Your awakening.” He met my gaze. “Soraya, whether you want fate or not, it’s already wrapped around you. Zarek wants you for it. Azhara fears you for it. And the elders… they suspect what you might become.”

“What am I?” The words slipped out, barely a whisper.

Kaide unrolled the scroll fully. “A Zehrael catalyst. The kind of wolf who shapes destinies, not follows them.”

My breath hitched.

He straightened. “Come. Training starts now.”

We stepped into the center of the room. Kaide drew a circle on the ground with chalk—an old ritual symbol. I stood inside it as he opened the scroll and began chanting a grounding verse. The words vibrated in the air, tugging something inside me.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed.

I obeyed.

“Breathe. Let your emotions rise, but do not let them drown you.”

I inhaled slowly. Heat stirred in my chest—the first flicker of power responding.

“Good,” Kaide murmured. “Now, focus on your heartbeat. When the power comes, greet it. Don’t run.”

A pulse rippled through me, bright and sharp. My hands tingled.

Kaide’s voice grew firmer. “Feel the energy in your palms. It is not your enemy. It is your inheritance.”

The tingling intensified—white-hot sparks dancing beneath my skin.

My breath hitched. “Kaide—”

“I’m here.” He stepped closer. “Open your eyes.”

I did.

Silver light bled from my hands, swirling like mist. Not the violent burst that had nearly killed Taren days before. This was softer, gentler—waiting for direction.

My heart thundered.

Kaide smiled faintly. “See? Not a curse.”

“It feels… alive.”

“It is.”

The light pulsed once—then flickered unsteadily. Pain erupted behind my ribs, like something twisting.

Kaide immediately reached out. “Breathe, Soraya.”

“I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” His voice cut through the panic. “You’re not alone.”

The light dimmed slightly.

“Again,” he said. “Slowly.”

I inhaled, long and shaky. Exhaled. The pain eased, the light steadied.

Kaide lowered his hands but didn’t step away. “You’re stronger than you think. You just need guidance.”

I swallowed hard. “Kaide… thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” His expression darkened just slightly. “But don’t shut me out. Not like you’re shutting out Raevan.”

I stiffened. “I told you—I don’t want to talk about him.”

“And I won’t force you.” He rolled up the scrolls gently. “But someday, you’ll need to decide whether your pain defines you… or your power does.”

Silence wrapped around us like warm sand.

For the first time in days, I didn’t feel like I was drowning.

I felt like I was waking up.