The walk back to the Salvatore Estate was always the hardest part of the day. As the "Neutral Zone" faded behind them, the wild, golden grass gave way to manicured lawns and gravel paths that crunched too loudly under Nikolas's worn boots. The transition was more than just physical; it was a shift in the very air. In the ruins, he was a member of a pack. Here, he was a ghost in his own home.
"See you tomorrow, Niko," Leo said, pausing at the edge of the servant's path. The other five were already splitting off toward their own sectors of the city.
"Tomorrow," Nikolas promised.
He watched Leo walk away, the older boy's gait still full of that easy, unbothered confidence. Nikolas waited until the shadows of the estate's outer wall fully swallowed his friend before he turned toward the back entrance of the manor.
The Salvatore Manor was a sprawling fortress of white stone and dark wood, illuminated by flickering mage-lamps that cast long, arrogant shadows across the courtyard. As Nikolas slipped through the kitchen gardens, he could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and the clinking of fine silver from the main dining hall. His brothers were likely recounting their day of "High-Class" training—boasting about how many stone slabs they'd cracked or how far their aura had extended.
Nikolas kept his head down, his ribs giving a sharp throb as he climbed the narrow servant's staircase to the third floor. His room was at the very end of the hall, a space barely larger than a closet that the family used to store old linens before he was born.
He pushed the door open, the hinges giving a soft, familiar groan. The room was sparse: a narrow cot, a single wooden chair, and a small window that looked out over the dark canopy of the forest. He didn't turn on the lamp. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and began to unlace his boots. His fingers were shaking slightly from the day's exertion.
Twelve hours, he thought, staring at his calloused palms. Twelve hours until I can go back to the ruins.
A soft knock at the door made him stiffen. He pulled his shirt down to hide the fresh bruises on his side.
"Come in," he whispered.
The door opened, and his mother stepped inside. She wasn't wearing the formal silks of a Salvatore Matriarch. Instead, she was in the outfit she wore when she was working in the estate's private infirmary—black trousers and a crisp white shirt, her leather boots making a dull thud on the floorboards. She looked tired, but when her eyes landed on Nikolas, they softened with a warmth that the rest of the house lacked.
"You're late for dinner, Niko," she said softly, closing the door behind her.
"I was training with Leo," Nikolas replied, trying to sound more energetic than he felt. "We were working on the Vanguard Formation. Jax showed me a new way to balance my weight."
His mother walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. She reached out, brushing a stray lock of shaggy hair from his forehead. Her hand was cool and smelled faintly of medicinal herbs—lavender and crushed mint.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," she murmured. "The Salvatore blood... it's different for everyone, Nikolas. You don't have to break yourself to prove you belong here."
"But I don't belong here, Mom," Nikolas said, his voice cracking. "Father says I'm a runt. My brothers treat me like a servant. If I don't get stronger, I'm just going to be a shadow in this house forever."
His mother didn't argue. She knew the cruelty of the Salvatore line better than anyone. She leaned forward, pulling him into a gentle embrace. Nikolas buried his face in her shoulder, letting the tension of the day leak out of him. For a moment, he wasn't a low-class wolf or a disappointment. He was just a ten-year-old boy.
"Eat," she said, pulling a small cloth-wrapped bundle from her pocket. "I saved some bread and dried meat from the kitchen. Your father is in a mood tonight; stay in your room."
"Is it the Recruitment?" Nikolas asked, taking the bread.
"The Human Seekers are arriving earlier than expected," she admitted, her gaze flickering toward the window. "They're searching for rifts in the borderlands. The tension is high, Niko. Just... stay under the radar for a few days."
Nikolas nodded, his mouth full of the dense, honeyed bread. He watched her leave, her silhouette framed by the dim light of the hallway before the door clicked shut. He was alone again.
He spent the next few hours in the dark, practicing the breathing exercises Jax had taught him. He sat cross-legged on the floor, focusing on the rhythm of his heart. In. Out. In. Out. He tried to feel the "pulse" Jax spoke of—the hidden current of energy that was supposed to live in every werewolf's marrow.
But there was nothing. Just the quiet ache of his muscles and the distant howl of a wild wolf deep in the forest.
He eventually crawled into bed, his body feeling like a collection of heavy stones. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about the ruins. He thought about Leo's grin and the way the sun had felt on his neck. He thought about the "Seven Knights" they were going to become.
The morning came too quickly. The sun hadn't even cleared the trees when the sound of a horn blasted through the estate, signaling the start of the morning drills. Nikolas was up before the second blast, his clothes already on. He didn't wait for a servant to bring water; he splashed his face with the cold dregs from the basin on his desk and slipped out the door.
He spent the morning doing chores—hauling water for the hounds, stacking wood for the kitchen fires, and staying out of the way of his older brothers, who were sparring in the main courtyard.
By noon, he was back at the Neutral Zone.
Leo was already there, but he wasn't training. He was standing by the old well, staring intently at the ground. The rest of the squad—Kael, Jax, Elena, Sora, and Toby—were gathered around him, their faces unusually serious.
"What is it?" Nikolas asked, jogging up to them.
"Look at the grass, Niko," Leo said, pointing to a patch of weeds near the well's base.
The vibrant green stalks had turned a sickly, translucent grey. They weren't dead; they looked drained, as if the color had been sucked out of them. A faint, cold draft seemed to be rising from the mouth of the well, despite the midday heat.
"Maybe it's a blight?" Elena suggested, though she stayed a few feet back.
"It smells weird," Sora added, wrinkling her nose. "Like... old copper and wet ash."
Leo knelt down, poking the grey grass with his training stick. The plant crumbled into a fine, soot-like powder at the touch. "It's probably just some old mage-leaks from the estate. They dump their failed potions in the runoff sometimes."
He stood up, shaking off the unease and flashing that trademark grin. "Forget the grass. We have work to do. Kael, you're on point. Niko, I want to see that strike again. If you can't hit the post ten times in a row without losing your balance, you're doing laps around the ruin."
Nikolas took his position, the grey grass forgotten. The sun beat down on them as they fell into their rhythm.
Thwack.
Thwack.
"Heel down, Niko!" Leo barked.
"I'm trying!"
They spent the afternoon pushing each other, the sound of their sticks hitting the practice posts echoing through the ruins. They practiced their "Vanguard" formation, moving in a tight circle with Leo at the front, protecting each other's blind spots.
"See?" Leo said, breathless and sweating as they finished a grueling set of drills. "Look at us. We don't need 'Noble' blood. We have each other."
They sat together in the shade of the watchtower, passing the canteen. Toby, the youngest after Nikolas, was showing off a new trick where he could balance a pebble on his nose, making everyone burst into fits of laughter.
"When we're Knights," Toby said, his voice full of wonder, "I'm going to buy my mom a house with a real garden. No more dirt floors."
"I'm going to build a workshop," Jax added, his eyes distant. "A place where I can make machines that even the Mages can't understand."
Nikolas listened to them, feeling a sense of belonging that was more powerful than any ability. He looked at Leo, who was leaning back against the cool stone, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the breeze.
"What about you, Niko?" Leo asked without opening his eyes. "What are you going to do when the world finally realizes you're a Salvatore?"
Nikolas looked at his scarred hands, then at the ruins around them. "I don't want to be a Salvatore," he said quietly. "I just want to stay right here. With all of you."
Leo opened one eye and smirked. "Fair enough. But you're still doing those laps."
The rest of the day was a blur of movement and laughter. They stayed until the shadows grew long and the first stars began to peek through the twilight. As they prepared to head home, Leo stopped Nikolas one last time.
"Tomorrow's the big day at the manor, right? The Human Seekers?"
"Yeah," Nikolas sighed. "Father wants everyone in the courtyard for the inspection."
"Just remember what I told you," Leo said, clasping Nikolas's hand in a firm grip. "They see the 'Low-Class.' We see the Knight. See you tomorrow, Niko."
"Tomorrow," Nikolas said.
He watched the group disappear into the dusk, feeling a strange weight in his chest. He turned and began the long walk back to the manor, the golden grass of the Neutral Zone whispering against his legs.