The Bloodmoon wolves didn't trust easily.
By the third day, I could feel their eyes on me everywhere I went, silent judgment following every step. Whispers trailed behind me like shadows.
The rejected one.
The weak Luna.
The outsider.
Ronan had told them I was under his protection, but protection wasn't the same as belonging.
The morning air was sharp as I walked toward the training grounds. Wolves sparred in human form, fast, brutal, efficient. This wasn't like Moonstone's polished drills. Bloodmoon training was survival.
"Aria," Ronan's voice carried across the clearing. He stood near the center, arms folded, dark hair falling slightly over his brow. "If you're going to stay here, you'll need to prove you can fight."
"I thought I was recovering."
"You are," he said. "But strength doesn't wait for permission."
I swallowed, glancing at the wolves watching. Some smirked, some looked bored, one or two looked curious.
"Fine," I said. "Who do I face?"
A tall woman stepped forward, muscular, confident, her braid whipping behind her. "I'll take her, Alpha."
"Lira," Ronan said evenly. "No killing."
She smirked. "I'll try to remember that."
The fight began fast.
Lira lunged. I barely dodged, my reflexes slower than I remembered. My wolf stirred but didn't surface. I hit the ground hard, breath leaving my lungs in a rush. Laughter rippled around the ring.
"Get up," Ronan said calmly.
I did. I wasn't about to let them see me break again.
Lira attacked a second time. This time, I blocked, caught her wrist, and twisted, years of old training kicking in. The crowd's laughter faded into silence as Lira hit the dirt, surprised.
But she recovered fast, sweeping my legs. I fell again, tasting blood.
Ronan didn't move, but his gaze burned into me. Not pity. Expectation.
Something in me snapped. My wolf surged forward, a spark of silver light flaring in my chest. I moved before I thought, claws flashing as I parried her next strike. Energy poured through me, wild, instinctive, powerful.
When it ended, Lira was on her knees, panting, a cut across her shoulder.
The clearing was silent.
Ronan stepped forward, his voice low. "Enough."
Lira bowed slightly, respect flickering in her eyes. "She's stronger than she looks."
I stood trembling, trying to steady my breathing. The silver glow at my collarbone pulsed again, stronger than before.
Ronan noticed. "You're channeling Moon energy," he said quietly. "Your wolf's waking up faster than expected."
"What does that mean?"
"It means," he said, stepping closer, "you're not done being chosen."
My knees almost gave out as the power ebbed. The world tilted, trees swaying, ground spinning, and then Ronan's hands were on my shoulders, steadying me before I fell. His touch was firm, grounding, the kind of strength that didn't ask permission but still felt safe.
"Easy," he murmured. "You burned through too much energy."
"I'm fine." The lie scraped my throat. My wolf was still humming, restless under my skin, caught between pride and panic.
"You're bleeding," he said. A shallow cut traced my arm where Lira's claws had grazed me. Before I could protest, he crouched beside me, pulling a small vial of healing salve from his belt.
"It's just a scratch."
"Scratches turn bad fast when Moon power's involved."
He uncorked the vial, the scent of herbs and smoke filling the space between us. His fingers brushed my skin as he dabbed the salve along the cut. It stung, then cooled, but the warmth of his hand lingered, impossible to ignore.
I tried not to look at him, but the air felt heavier the longer he stayed close. His breath ghosted against my cheek, steady and unhurried. My wolf shifted, pressing against my ribs again, curious, alert, aware.
"You should rest," he said quietly, his gaze flicking from my arm to my face.
"I can't," I whispered. "Every time I close my eyes, I see Kale."
His expression softened, something raw flickering in his eyes. "And yet you're still here, fighting. Maybe that's what the Moon saw."
I looked up. The distance between us was gone, only a breath, a heartbeat. His scent, earth and rain and something ancient, filled my lungs. My pulse tripped over itself, my wolf pushing forward again.
I should have stepped back. Instead, I froze.
His hand hovered near my collarbone, where the silver glow pulsed like a second heartbeat. "It's reacting to me," he said, almost to himself.
"Then you should move away," I managed.
"I should," he agreed, but he didn't.
The air hummed between us, the glow brightening, matching the rhythm of our breaths. For a fleeting second, I wondered if the Moon was rewriting fate right before my eyes.
Then I tore myself away, stumbling back, clutching my arm like a lifeline. "Don't."
He didn't follow, but his voice was quiet when he spoke. "I wasn't going to hurt you."
"That's not what I'm afraid of," I whispered.
The silence that followed felt heavier than any battle.
Later that evening, I found myself sitting by the fire outside the healer's hut. My muscles ached, but for the first time in days, it felt like my body again, alive, fierce, mine.
Ronan approached quietly, carrying two cups of tea. "For the pain," he said.
I took it, our fingers brushing. A jolt ran through me, heat and something deeper. My wolf hummed softly.
"You handled yourself well today," he said. "Even Lira's impressed."
"I didn't win."
"You didn't need to. You endured. That's rarer."
He sat beside me, the firelight flickering across his face. The silence between us was no longer uncomfortable.
After a while, I asked, "Why do you believe in me so easily?"
He turned his gaze to the flames. "Because the Moon doesn't waste her marks. If she gave you the strength to survive rejection, it's for a reason."
I studied him. "And what reason do you think that is?"
He looked at me then, steady, unreadable, but something burning quietly behind his eyes. "I don't know yet. But I intend to find out."
That night, as I drifted to sleep, my wolf's voice echoed faintly:
He's the key, Aria.
Not to your past, but to what comes next.
I didn't understand it yet. But the fire that had died inside me was beginning to burn again.