I was one of the first to arrive.
The annual Alpha Training Summit was held in the mountain stronghold of Veridan Crest. The training grounds stretched wide and sharp—stone paths wrapped around towering pines, and platforms were carved straight into the cliffs.
Wind came knife-cold off the ridges, carrying iron, pine, and old sweat.
The sparring fields were lined with ancient white ash. It was the kind of place that stripped wolves down to their instinct. No politics. No titles. Just the pack-born truth of who you were. I liked that. I needed that—something I could grind my teeth against until my thoughts turned to actions.
I stood near the central circle, fingers drumming against my thigh, scanning the early arrivals.
One by one, Alpha heirs and their seconds poured in, all in sleek armor, some with blades strapped to their backs, others laughing like this was some kind of reunion. Steel clinked. Boots rang. The air felt charged, a storm trying to decide where to land.
I wasn’t in the mood for a reunion.
A she-wolf from the Blackhorn pack sauntered over, hips swaying like she thought I hadn’t noticed.
“You’re Silas Hollowmoor, right?” she asked, voice light. “The one who nearly broke Kaylan’s nose last summer?”
“I guess.”
She giggled, stepping closer. “He kind of deserved it. You look tense though—need help stretching out before training?”
I didn’t even glance at her. “I’m good.”
She blinked and her smile dropped. I walked away before she could say more. Cold slid under my collar as I put distance between us, letting the noise fall behind like a shed skin.
And then I felt her. I didn’t need to watch; I sensed her—like electricity lacing through my spine—Raena Duskborn. The hairs on my arms rose before my eyes found her.
Confident as ever, braid swinging behind her, boots crunching on the gravel. She wore dark red training armor, sleeveless, with a black band wrapped tight around her upper arm. She looked… dangerous. And she was walking straight toward me. The field seemed to narrow to a single path, and it led through my sternum.
“What’s up, Silas?” she grinned, and punched my shoulder playfully.
I should’ve flinched, but I didn’t. Instead, something shot through me—hot, fast, confusing. Like sparks under skin.
My stomach turned. My fingers twitched. My breath hitched. I didn’t know what it was, but I hated it. And I loved it, too. My wolf prowled just beneath the surface, pacing lines into my bones.
“I’m good,” I muttered. “You?”
Raena shrugged. “I’ve been better. Let’s hope today doesn’t suck.”
Before I could respond, the horns blew.
Everyone gathered around as a tall, older wolf with thick gray streaks in his beard stepped forward. “I’m Commander Eiran. This year’s lead trainer. Welcome to Veridan Crest. Here, no pack rules apply. No rank matters. You fight, you sweat, you bleed. You follow orders, or you get out.”
He pointed to a table lined with padded gear. “Pick a vest. You’ll need it.”
Raena and I walked up together. She picked the brightest one. Purple.
I blinked. “Seriously?”
She smirked. “I look good in every color. Unlike you.”
I looked down at my black gear. “It’s called being practical.”
“It’s called being boring.”
“Oh, please.”
“Don’t start crying, Hollowmoor.”
“Don’t choke on that color, Duskborn.”
We smirked at each other. Something too light passed between us. I didn’t like it. Yet I didn’t want it to stop. Commander Eiran’s voice broke the tension. “First drill. Reflex rounds. Pair off. No weapons. Just speed.”
Pairs started forming fast. Raena looked at me.
“You in?” she asked.
“I guess.”
We stepped into the sparring circle. The commander’s voice rang again. “Go!”
She moved first—fast. A low sweep for my legs. I blocked, shifted, and lunged. Dust lifted in thin ghosts around our feet.
We moved like smoke and lightning. Hit, dodge, flip. She was quick, but I was stronger. Her elbow nearly caught my jaw, but I ducked and swept her feet out.
Raena hit the dirt, groaning.
“You okay?” I asked, stepping closer.
“Please,” she grinned, “I’ve had worse kisses.”
I blinked. “That wasn’t—”
“Silas!” she shouted.
Before I could react, she lunged again—slamming into me. I hit the ground hard, my back against the dirt. The circle sound dimmed, like the mountain held its breath.
And then—her scent changed. The air shifted; I felt it. The haze surged.
“Oh no,” I breathed.
Her eyes glazed over with gold. Her breathing changed—shallower and deeper. She straddled me, hands gripping my shoulders tight.
“Raena,” I said, panic crawling in. “Raena, stop. It’s a haze. It’s not real.”
She didn’t answer. Then her mouth dropped and her teeth sank hard into my neck. Pain. A sting deep under the skin. Not just a bite; it was a mark from her. And I went still—not from fear but from heartbreak. My worst nightmare had just come true.