I woke with a start, Barbara’s fantasies still lingering in my mind like a fever dream.
The book lay splayed on the bed beside me, its pages crumpled from where I’d fallen asleep on them. I quickly shoved it under my pillow, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
The space beside me remained untouched, the sheets cold and smooth. Kaius hadn’t returned. I stared at the empty pillow next to mine, irritated by the unwarranted disappointment that crept through me.
Why should I care where he spent the night? Our arrangement was purely contractual. What he did with his nights was none of my
concern.
A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called, my voice still rough with sleep.
Frost entered, his ice–blue eyes quickly assessing me. His expression shifted to one of concern.
“How was your night? You don’t seem well–rested,” he said, moving to stand near the window.
I ran a hand through my tangled hair, suddenly self–conscious. Could he tell what I’d been reading?
“I… I had been occupied,” I admitted, unable to meet his gaze.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you still worrying about Kaius’s whereabouts? I told you not to.”
“I wasn’t,” I lied.
Frost didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he gestured toward the door. “Let’s go somewhere.”
“Where?” I asked, surprised by the suggestion.
“Anywhere, or maybe a run in the woods.”
The idea of escaping these walls, even briefly, was suddenly appealing. Anything to stop the endless circuit of thoughts about Kaius, the mark on my neck, and what awaited me in the coming months.
“Okay, I’ll go change.”
I slipped into the bathroom with clothes from the wardrobe–casual workout clothes that I was certain Kaius wouldn’t approve of. The pants were form–fitting but practical, the top slightly loose and comfortable.
When I emerged, I couldn’t help asking, “How do I look?”
Frost’s eyes swept over me briefly, his expression carefully neutral. “Good enough.”
I felt a flicker of disappointment at his clinical assessment, then immediately chided myself for caring. Why should it matter what Frost thought of my appearance?
We walked in companionable silence through the corridors, the early morning stillness broken only by the occasional pack member hurrying about their duties. Each wolf we passed bowed respectfully, their eyes dropping to the visible mark on my neck before quickly looking away.
Outside, the crisp mountain air filled my lungs, bringing with it the scent of pine and earth. For the first time since arriving at
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Ravenhollow, I felt something close to peace. At least until I noticed the group of wolves gathered in what appeared to be a training field.
Despite the early hour, dozens of pack members were engaged in what looked like combat training–sparring in pairs, running obstacle courses, practicing with various weapons.
“What are they doing?” I asked, momentarily distracted from my troubled thoughts.
“Training,” Frost replied simply.
“But it’s so early.”
“Everyone eligible in the pack is expected to train at least twice a week, but these are the pack soldiers and they are to train daily, he explained, watching the field with evident pride.
My curiosity peaked. “Can I get a closer look?”
Frost hesitated, a flash of reluctance crossing his face. “I don’t know if you would like what you see.”
“I would love to see the pack soldiers train, please,” I insisted, suddenly determined.
After a moment’s consideration, he nodded. “Let’s go then.”
As we approached, I was struck by the disciplined precision of the training. Unlike the Mistwood Pack, where only higher–ranking wolves received combat training, here everyone moved with purpose and skill.
My attention was drawn to a female wolf with electric blue hair commanding a group of soldiers. She moved with lethal grace, her instructions clear and confident as she demonstrated a complex takedown maneuver.
“Who is she?” I asked, unable to hide my admiration for her obvious skill.
“That’s Lysandra Reyne, a commander and general,” Frost explained, his tone carefully neutral.
I studied her more closely. She couldn’t have been much older than me, yet she commanded respect from warriors twice her size.
“She seems quite young.”
“Here, age doesn’t matter; you fight for your position.”
“And she fought for hers?” I asked, trying to imagine this relatively small female defeating the massive warriors who now followed her commands.
“How else would she have attained such a position?” Frost replied, a hint of pride in his voice.
As I watched Lysandra correct a soldier’s stance with confident authority, movement at the edge of the field caught my eye. My heart stuttered in my chest.
Katus
He stood alone, arms crossed, observing the training with intense focus. Even from this distance, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the focused stillness in his stance. He hadn’t returned to our room last night. Had he been here all along?
Before I could process this, Lysandra noticed him too. She barked an order to her soldiers and strode across the field toward him. The way she moved–confident, familiar–triggered an uneasy feeling in my gut.
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When she reached him, she didn’t bow or maintain the respectful diance I’d observed from every other pack member. Instead, she leaned in close, resting her head briefly on his shoulder in a gesture that spoke of intimacy and comfort.
The knot in my stomach tightened painfully. I turned to Frost, who was watching my reaction with careful attention.
“Who is she to Kaius?” I asked, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.
Frost’s expression told me everything before he even spoke.
“A close friend.”
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