"Let's go," Luke said.
We headed together to the training grounds.
Everyone was already gathered. We waited for her to show up.
One hour passed. Then another.
"Why is she taking so long?" someone muttered.
"Is she still coming?" another asked after another while.
Finally, after three more hours, Wren arrived. She wore a sleek black combat uniform that clung to her skin. She didn't bother offering an apology for her lateness. Instead, her voice rang out, precise and commanding.
"Listen up. I'm going to teach you all how to hone your werewolf abilities further. It'll be brutal, but by the end, your alertness will be far better than it is now."
She paused, eyes scanning us coldly. "Stay where you are."
Then she started walking slowly, taking deliberate steps, moving through the rows of guards. When she got to me, she stopped. I felt her gaze rake down over me like I was nothing.
"Why do you bother being here?" she asked, her tone condescending. "You should get lost now."
"I'm also a guard," I said quietly.
"But you don't have any werewolf ability," she snapped. "So what exactly do you expect to train in this class?"
I opened my mouth, but no words came. She was right—and we both knew it.
Luke stepped forward. "Miss Wren, please… it's possible she'll awaken late. There must be something she can be taught. She—"
"If you feel bad for her," Wren cut in sharply, "you can join her. I really don't care."
I forced a smile. "Don't worry, she's right."
"Then hurry up and leave," Wren said coolly. "Don't disrupt the class."
I took a step back, about to turn away, when a familiar voice rang out.
"Wren."
Everyone immediately dropped to a bow. "Your Highness."
Prince Julius walked in with a slow, calculating stride.
"Yes, my prince," Wren said, her tone a bit more cheerful.
"Why are you sending away one of the guards?" he asked.
"She doesn't have any ability, Your Highness. What else could I do?"
"You're right," he said calmly.
I clenched my fists. That extra humiliation… I didn't need it.
But then he spoke again.
"What could she possibly learn from you?"
Wren's expression changed.
"What do you mean, my prince?"
"You're saying you can't teach her anything. Doesn't that make you an incapable teacher?"
"My prince, it's not that I can't—"
"Then what is it? You won't? Are you intentionally disregarding my father's orders?"
"No, Your Highness!"
"Good."
He stepped closer to me—close enough that only I could hear him.
"I just thought of a fun way to provoke my brother," he whispered in my ear.
Then he straightened and pulled back, his voice cold again. "Wren, don't make this mistake again."
And with that, he turned and left.
I stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.
"Fall back to your positions," Wren barked.
That was it. No more look, no nod, no acknowledgment. She didn't try to make things harder for me, but she also didn't spare me a second glance. It was as if I was air, something she could neither see nor hear.
So I stood still in my position, arms tight at my sides, and watched her train the others.
Luke stood out. Unlike the rest, he didn't just have speed or strength, his movements left behind flickers of translucent afterimages, like shadows that lingered. It was his special ability, Phantom Shift, allowing him to displace his presence for a split second. A perfect skill for evasion and speed-based attacks.
Wren clearly noticed.
She narrowed her eyes in intrigue, circling around him like a hawk. "Again," she ordered, and he complied. He darted left, then vanished only to reappear behind his sparring partner.
The session dragged on, with her focusing more and more on him. She corrected his stance, pushed him harder, demanded more. He was sweating by the end, but he bore it with silent pride.
And when she was finally done, she simply said, "Dismissed," and walked away without sparing me a glance.
I was about to leave when…
A group of three werewolves swaggered toward me with fury.
"Not only are you trash," one of them sneered, "but you've got the guts to waste Wren's time? Must be nice to have pretty eyes and no skill."
"She should be in the kitchen, not here," another added. "Bet the prince just pities her."
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My chest was tight.
"Enough."
Luke's voice cut through their words. He stepped beside me, his expression stone cold. "She did absolutely nothing to deserve this. You think ganging up on her makes you better?"
"She pissed off someone she shouldn't have," one scoffed. "What we're doing, is what she deserves."
"That's ridiculous. Doing this doesn't make you worth anything."
He grabbed my hand firmly but gently. "Let's go."
I didn't say anything. I let him lead me away, my fingers wrapped around his feeling grateful and embarrassed.