Chapter#04

Selene’s POV

The Ironfang Academy was alive before the sun had fully risen. Sunrays stretched over the damp earth of the central courtyard, glinting off the frost that clung to the jagged rocks surrounding us. We ran our laps around the perimeter. My legs burned with exhaustion, and sweat soaked through my gray trainee uniform.

Beside me, Rowan and Caden were steady and focused. Rowan’s lanky frame moved with a restless energy. His gray eyes darted to me every few seconds. Caden’s sandy hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. I, on the other hand, felt every step like it might be my last.

As we came to a halt, the sound of boots slamming together echoed through the courtyard. Captain Torin stepped forward. “There will be no exceptions, no mercy. If you fail, you are out, or you die trying. Pain is a teacher. Learn from it.”

Why had I agreed to this? I didn’t belong here. I was Selene, daughter of Silverthorn, not Kaelen, the brother I was pretending to be. I dropped my gaze to the ground, trying to ignore the pressure of Torin’s words. My fingers brushed the hem of my gray uniform.

“Kaelen!” Liam’s voice cut through my thoughts. I turned just in time to see him jogging toward me. He stood out even among the Ironfang trainees. He wasn’t just another recruit; he was different.

“You holding up?” he asked, letting out a long breath.

“Barely,” I admitted with a sigh.

He chuckled, reaching out to rest a hand on my shoulder, “It’ll get easier. The first few days are always the worst. You just have to push through, kid.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” I said as I stepped away.

Liam didn’t seem to notice my discomfort. “Endurance runs are done, but the trials are just getting started. Stay sharp, Kaelen. These wolves will do anything to be on top.” He jogged off before I could respond.

The trial pushed us to the brink. We scaled sheer cliffs slicked with frost and navigated obstacle courses rigged with iron spikes. By the time we reached the combat arena, I was barely holding myself together, My body was trembling with exhaustion. Rowan and Caden, though, made it look easy. Rowan took down his opponent in seconds. Caden’s fight was longer but no less impressive. His steady pragmatism guided his movements as he wore down his opponent with calculated precision, earning a nod of approval from Torin. The crowd loved them, their cheers echoed off the mountains, and I did too.

But then my name was called, “Kaelen!”

I swallowed hard, stepping into the ring. My heart pounded against my ribs like a war drum. My opponent was a giant man with a deep scar that burned up his neck. His black hair was shaved on the sides, and his green eyes burned with disdain.

His lips twisted into a cruel smirk as he looked at me like I was an easy meal. I didn’t dare look back as my eyes were stuck on his. The crowd’s murmurs dulled in my ears.

The moment the fight began, I knew I was outmatched. I saw him fight before. He moved like lightning. His punches were fast and brutal. I knew I’d be able to dodge a few because my smaller size gave me an edge in agility, but my counters were sloppy and weak.

“Kaelen’s useless!” someone shouted, followed by a wave of mocking laughter that echoed off the stone benches.

And before I could react, a fierce punch hit me and I crumpled to the ground. The metallic taste of blood flooded my tongue as I gasped for air.

“Stay down, runt,” he sneered.

Anger surged in my chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the pain. He landed another blow, sending me sprawling, and this time, I couldn’t get up. My vision blurred as the jeers grew louder.

And then, I smelled it.

It was faint at first; a scent that cut through the blood, sweat, and dirt, earthy and wild, with a hint of the sweet mint. My heart stumbled in my chest as a primal recognition stirred deep within me.

It was impossible, but it was there. Damien? Was he alive? The scent was his. The same scent my mate would carry.

No. It couldn’t be. I’d seen his head severed, his body crumpled, and his eyes dull and lifeless. But what was that scent? Was it just my grief? My wolf whimpered, torn between hope and despair, but the scent grew stronger.

My wolf, dormant for so long under the weight of trauma and the Duskfang potion, growled to life. I pushed myself to my feet. My body trembled, but my gray eyes met his as I managed to get on my feet again. His smirk faltered.

This time, I struck first. But he held my hand and twisted it, making me shriek in agony. And then another fist struck my face like lightning. My vision darkened, the world tilted as I fell, and everything went black.

I woke in the dead of night. My body ached and was stiff from the brutal training. I’d been unconscious most of the day. My collapse in the combat arena showed how far I was from the warrior I needed to become.

A soft groan escaped my lips as I shifted on the thin straw mattress in the trainee barracks, trying to stretch out the knots in my muscles. Every inch of me felt like it had been run through a grinder. My head throbbed with a dull ache, my ribs ached from the opponent’s brutal strikes, and my swollen nose left my vision blurry.

Rowan had applied healing salves, made from Duskfang herbs we’d bartered for during our escape, to my wounds when I was passed out. I felt filthy both inside and out. Blood, sweat, and dirt clung to my skin in a grimy layer. I couldn’t stand it, not for another second. The idea of staying trapped in this dirt-streaked, painful state was unbearable.

My gaze darted around the barracks, a stone hall carved into the mountainside. Its walls were etched with Ironfang runes of endurance that glowed faintly in the moonlight filtering through a narrow window. The room was filled with the soft sounds of sleeping trainees.

Rowan’s gentle snoring filled the silence from his corner. Caden’s steady breathing let me know he was out cold. They wouldn’t know I was gone. They never had to know.

I tiptoed out of bed, my feet barely making a sound against the cold stone floor. I moved quietly down the hallway, past the door to the boys’ shower room, as my heart pounded with the fear of being caught.

The boys’ showers were dark. The only light came from the dim glow of the moon filtering through a cracked window, casting jagged shadows on the stone walls. I pushed the door open, and the smell hit me immediately. I gagged, stepping back as my stomach twisted. The floor was a mess of dirt, hair, and smeared patches of blood from who-knows-what-or-who.

My inner princess, the part of me that had once worn lace gowns dyed with lunar sap, rose in disgust. I was supposed to be above this filth, a daughter of Silverthorn, not a runaway covered in the Academy’s grime. A cold shiver ran down my spine as I turned away, the thought of scrubbing myself clean in such a disgusting space unbearable.

That’s when it hit me. Rowan had mentioned something about a hidden hot spring deep in the Ironfang Mountains. He’d spoken of it in passing, describing how the Ironfang wolves used it for ritual cleansings after their survival trials in the Wraithwood; a tradition to honor the moon’s purity.

The idea of soaking in a steaming pool, washing away the dirt, was too tempting to resist. I knew I’d risk everything if I got caught. Trainees weren’t allowed to leave the barracks at night, and discovery could expose my true identity. But I couldn’t stand the filth anymore.

I grabbed a clean set of clothes from my pack and slipped out into the night, careful not to disturb my brothers. The journey was perilous as my bare feet navigated the rocky terrain of the Ironfang Mountains, the frost-covered stones biting into my soles. I moved quickly. The scent of pine and earth grounded me as I followed the faint trail Rowan had described. The moon hung high above. My heart pounded with every step. The fear of being caught mingled with the desperate need to feel whole again.

And then I found it.

Nestled deep within a grove of ancient pines, surrounded by moss-covered rocks and the whispering of leaves, the hot spring lay beneath the moon’s silver glow. It was a peaceful sight; a small paradise hidden away from the brutal reality of the Academy. The water bubbled softly, steam rising into the cool night air as the pool shimmered in the moonlight. Its surface reflected the stars like a mirror. The air here was clean, scented with pine and the faint mineral tang of the spring.

I let out a slow breath of relief. My aching muscles begged for the warmth. The sight of the steaming pool was a salvation I hadn’t known I needed. Without hesitation, I shed my filthy uniform and slid into the water. It enveloped me like a gentle hug. The tension that had gripped my body for days seemed to dissolve into the water. For the first time in what felt like forever, I relaxed.

The water was perfectly warm, and I closed my eyes, letting the quiet of the night settle over me. For the first time since the massacre, I felt like I could breathe again.

My fingers grazed the water, feeling the ripples slide over my skin as I stared at my reflection in the still pool.  Just as my mind began to relax further, a familiar voice broke the silence.

“What are you doing here?”