Amara.
It was heavily snowing outside—but not a single flake dared settle on Seraphina's winter coat.
Her fury burned too hot for such a thing. From every fiber of her being, anger radiated in sharp waves, melting everything that came too close. All the while, I walked cautiously, as if the ground itself might snap beneath me if my steps were too steady. I maintained my distance, careful not to say or do anything that might ignite her already sour mood further.
Still, I stayed close—close enough to not get left behind.
It was half past eight.
We were late. Nearly an hour late.
If I had been given any say in the matter, we would have arrived before dawn—six, or maybe five—just early enough to slip in unnoticed, early enough to avoid eyes and whispers and judgment. But Seraphina did not move according to anyone's comfort but her own.
Earlier that morning, our grandmother had woken us both and announced—far too cheerfully—that it was time for training.
Seraphina had not taken it well.
Did I mention she was staying with us now? She is temporarily banished from her parents' home after her explosive argument with her mother. And as it turned out, she was also banished from living in the pack house for a long history of brawl. Not that she seemed the least bit bothered by any of it. If anything, she wore her exile from both places like a badge of honor.
Long story short—she didn't want to train, and she had done everything in her power that morning to delay out departure from home.
And so, here we were. Late. Visible. Exposed.
As we passed through town, I felt myself shrinking beneath the weight of too many eyes. Occasionally, pack members paused mid-step to stare. Conversations quieted down when we passed. And whispers followed us like uninvited shadows.
Knowing how deeply such things unsettled me, I kept my gaze fixed on Seraphina's back, forcing my ears to ignore every murmured word that carried my name.
"Hurry up, Amara," she called without turning.
When we finally reached the training grounds, my first instinct was to turn around and flee.
The space was vast—far larger than I'd imagined—and crowded with bodies both human and wolf. Training hadn't begun yet, which meant chaos reigned freely. Some trainees stood in loose groups, laughing and talking. Others sparred on their own,flexing muscles with movements both sharp and predatory.
Seraphina scoffed, her eyes narrowing.
"So belittling," she muttered. "We're supposed to waste the next five hours in a place like this? Everyday?"
I glanced at her, then back at the crowd.
Five hours among strangers felt unbearable. Even among humans, I'd always hated places like this. School had been tolerable only because it was structured—and predictable. The social part, however, had always exhausted me.
"I was wondering what that awful stench was."
The voice sliced cleanly through my thoughts and forced me back to reality.
I turned, only to find three tall men approaching us, their expressions smug and familiar in the worst way possible .
How cliché!
Seraphina shot me a knowing look, then reached up and tied her hair into a tight ponytail. The lazy disdain on her face hardened into something sharp and dangerous as she planted her feet and faced them head-on.
"The stench of an incomplete wolf is fouling the air," the least attractive of the three sneered.
So I was right.
They were here for me.
I had braced myself for this yesterday—prepared for the hostility, rehearsed my indifference. To my surprise, the words barely stung. They slid off me, dull and very much expected.
"This isn't a place for the likes of you," another added. "Run along. Crawl back under your grandmother's shadow."
Eyes turned our way.
Too many eyes.
I turned to Seraphina, ready to suggest we leave—ready to retreat before things escalated—but I never got the chance.
She stepped forward and grabbed the second speaker by the hair, yanking his head down until their faces were inches apart.
"Say one more word," she growled softly, "and I swear I'll make you regret learning how to speak. Fucking dog!"
Damn.
For someone who claimed she didn't want to be like her mother or grandmother, Seraphina carried their fire effortlessly. If that was what the women in this family were meant to be—fearless, unyielding—then I truly did not belong among them.
The man she held froze, his jaw clenched, saying nothing.
"You brute!" the third barked from a safe distance.
"Let him go!"
"Seraphina," I said quietly, reaching for her arm.
I didn't make it.
A rough hand seized her shoulder and shoved her back hard. She stumbled, releasing her grip. My head snapped up to see the leader—the largest of the three—looming over us.
Rage brewed in his eyes.
Before I could react, he grabbed me by the collar and hauled me forward.
"You don't belong—"
He never finished.
A massive wolf slammed into him from the side, sending both of them crashing into the ground. I fell backward, the impact knocked the breath from my lungs as I hit the freezing ground .
My heart pounded violently inside of chest as I held the sight before me.
I recognized the wolf instantly… it was Seraphina's.
Before I could fully process what was happening, the leader shifted too—bones cracking, flesh tearing as a wolf nearly as large rose to meet her.
Then chaos erupted.
Gasps turned into cheers. Murmurs rose, still I remained rooted to the spot, frozen in shock.
Grandmother had warned me. She had told me that wolves didn't argue—they fought. Words were optional. But claws were not.
I wasn't sure I would ever get used to it though.
My stomach twisted when I saw Seraphina stumble back—blood staining her hind leg. Panic surged through me. I searched the crowd desperately, hoping someone—anyone—would intervene.
No one did.
They were all young. Too young to know when to stop. Some watched with thrill, others with fear—but none moved.
I did.
Before I could think better of it, I ran toward the fight. Murmurs exploded behind me, but I didn't slow. I didn't know what I could do—but I couldn't stand still while Seraphina bled because of me.
Then—
Silence.
A tall man with gleaming blond hair, stepped between the two wolves and slammed them both into the ground with terrifying ease. He held them there by sheer force alone. His presence came with an inexplicably pressing feeling.
"Disperse," he commanded.
The crowd scattered in an instant.
I stood frozen as he glanced at me briefly before addressing the wolves at his feet.
"Shift back."
The male obeyed immediately and retreated.
But Seraphina struggled to stand, let alone walk. Her wound was worse than it appeared. Then, after staring briefly, the man bent and lifted her with ease, tossing her over his shoulder.
I jogged after him without a second thought as he started to walk away.
He carried her into the infirmary, placed her gently on a bed, and summoned a nurse.
"She'll be treated," he said, turning to me. "Come with me."
I hesitated—but Seraphina growled softly and turned her head away.
I understood that gesture as permission for me to trust the stranger and ended up following him.
"Never do that again," he said abruptly as soon as we exited the infirmary.
"Do what?" I asked.
"Try to stop a fight between wolves."
You did. I thought—but I said nothing. He was able to intervene and stop such a feral fight with his bare hands alone.
Could I dare compare myself to him?
"Who are you?" I asked instead.
He turned, a faint smile touching his lips.
"Kael Grayson. Beta of the Twilight Pack." His gaze sharpened. "And also your instructor."
My breath caught.
"Oh—sorry," I blurted, bowing awkwardly.
He laughed softly. "Lift your head, Miss Amara," he said politely.
I did.
"What's the first thing you learned today?" he asked.
I swallowed.
"That I should never step between fighting wolves."
His smile widened.
"Good."
And for the first time since arriving at the training grounds, I felt like I just might survive this place after all.