🌑 CHAPTER 4 — Trials by Fire and Blood
The night tastes different after blood is spilled.
The forest still carries the echo of the battle—Ethan's snarl, Damien's cruel laughter, Ava's trembling breaths. Even now, the air hangs heavy with tension, like the world itself is bracing for what comes next. The moon sits above them, pale and indifferent, watching the aftermath with a cold detachment that makes Ava shiver.
Ethan walks beside her, silent, wounded, and frighteningly controlled. His shirt clings to his back where blood dries in jagged streaks. Each step seems to pain him, though he hides it well. Too well. His strength is unnatural. His endurance, impossible. But the exhaustion in his eyes betrays him—those silver-dark eyes that glow when danger looms too close.
Ava stays close, matching his pace. She doesn't touch him—not because she fears him, but because she fears he'll break under the weight of everything he's carrying.
"Ethan," she whispers finally, voice small in the vast dark. "Are you okay?"
His jaw flexes, but he doesn't slow.
"I'm fine."
He isn't fine.
She knows it. She can see the strain in his posture, the tightness in his shoulders, the way he fights every instinct screaming to shift back into his wolf form just to heal faster.
"You shouldn't lie to me," Ava says softly.
He stops walking.
Not gradually—like he's suddenly frozen by something inside him. He turns his head just enough for her to see his eyes, glinting with something sharp and raw.
"I'm not lying to you," he says. "I'm lying to myself."
Her breath stutters. Something cold slips down her spine.
He turns fully to face her now—a dark silhouette against the bruised moonlight. His shirt is torn across the ribs, revealing claw marks carved deep into his skin. The wounds pulse, reluctant to heal. Damien did worse damage than she realized.
"Ethan…" She steps closer, reaching for him, but he catches her wrist gently, not letting her touch the wound.
"No," he says. "Not yet. If I let myself lean on you, even for a second—I won't stop."
Her heart twists painfully.
He releases her wrist, but the space between them feels heavier than before.
"We need to get back," Ethan says. "The pack needs to see me standing."
Ava frowns. "Why does it matter that much?"
His expression goes dark.
"Because Damien's challenge wasn't just against me. It was against my rule. If the pack sees weakness now, even those loyal to me might start to doubt."
She hates the way that sounds.
Like he's trapped by expectations.
Like he's carrying a kingdom on his back and the crown is made of chains.
"Ethan… what exactly is Damien trying to do?"
He turns away, shoulders stiffening.
"Take everything," he says.
"Take control. Take my territory. Take my wolves. And if he senses any deeper connection between you and me—he will try to take you too."
Her breath catches.
"Why? I'm… I'm just human."
Ethan stops again. When he looks at her this time, there's something haunted in his gaze.
"That's not how he sees you."
Ava's skin prickles.
"Then how does he see me?"
Ethan hesitates.
The silence stretches—thick, suffocating.
Finally, he whispers:
"He sees you as my weakness."
The words hit her like a physical blow.
Ava's chest tightens. "Am I…?"
Ethan steps closer—too close. His voice drops to a low, dangerous murmur.
"No."
Then lower.
"You are the only thing that keeps the darkness in me from swallowing everything whole."
Her pulse jumps. His nearness is intoxicating—terrifying. For a moment, she forgets they're standing in a forest soaked with the remnants of war.
But the moment doesn't last.
A howl erupts in the distance.
Not Damien's.
Another wolf.
A warning call.
Ethan stiffens. "The pack is summoning me."
Ava's throat goes dry.
"Are they angry because of me?"
"Not angry," he replies. "Afraid."
"Afraid of Damien?"
Ethan shakes his head.
"No."
A beat.
"They're afraid of what I might become."
Cold fear slides through Ava's bones.
"What do you mean?"
He doesn't answer. Instead, he offers his hand.
"Stay close. Whatever happens—don't speak unless I tell you to. And don't run."
She slips her hand into his. His grip is warm, grounding, but trembling with tension he refuses to show anywhere else.
Together, they follow the path deeper into the forest.
---
The Pack Grounds
A clearing opens ahead, lit by torches that spit sparks into the night air. Figures move in the shadows—shifting, pacing, human silhouettes flickering between wolf forms and back again. The pack is restless. Nervous. Hungry for answers.
Ava's steps falter.
There are dozens of them.
Men and women with eyes that gleam too brightly, movements too sharp, too animal. Some stand on two legs. Some crouch on four. All of them turn toward Ethan the moment he enters the clearing.
The air grows thick.
Whispers ripple through the group.
"Ethan's wounded—"
"Damien struck first—"
"No Alpha should bleed—"
"What is the human doing here—?"
Ava's stomach knots.
Ethan moves forward without hesitation.
He doesn't limp.
He doesn't show pain.
He doesn't show fear.
He wears his authority like a second skin, thick and impenetrable.
A tall wolf steps out of the crowd—a woman with braids and gold eyes burning like fire.
"Elara," Ethan greets, voice steady.
She bows her head.
"Alpha."
Ava stiffens at the word. Hearing it spoken aloud, in reverence… it changes everything.
"Elara," Ethan says, "what's the status?"
"The pack is unsettled," she replies. "They heard Damien's roar. They smelled blood. And they sensed the human's fear."
Ava flinches.
Ethan steps slightly in front of her—a subtle shield.
"She's under my protection," he says firmly.
Elara's gaze sharpens at Ava.
"And what does she know?"
Ethan hesitates.
A dangerous pause.
"She knows enough."
The pack shifts uneasily. Some snarl under their breath. Others watch Ava with predatory curiosity.
A man with pale hair and a scar across his cheek steps forward.
"Has she witnessed your shift?"
Ava's breath catches, but Ethan answers without a second of doubt.
"Yes."
A wave of murmurs surges through the wolves. Some horrified. Some eager. Some terrified.
"And she still stands beside you?" the man asks darkly.
Ethan's voice drops to a chilling calm.
"She stands because she chooses to."
A few wolves bare their teeth.
"She's a threat to the secrecy," someone growls.
"She's leverage for Damien," another snaps.
"She doesn't belong here—"
Ethan's roar fractures the air.
The ground trembles beneath Ava's feet. The wolves fall silent instantly.
"She belongs where I say she belongs," Ethan snarls, voice deepening with the edge of his beast. "And right now, she stands with me."
Ava's chest tightens.
His protectiveness isn't gentle.
It's brutal.
Instinctive.
Alpha to its core.
But it warms something inside her she didn't know needed warmth.
Elara steps forward again, expression unreadable.
"Then," she says quietly, "she must face the trial."
Ava freezes.
"What trial?"
Ethan turns sharply. "No. Absolutely not."
"It's the law," Elara replies. "If she stands beside an Alpha… she must prove she can survive in his world."
Ava swallows hard.
"What does that mean?"
Elara's gaze is steady.
"It means you will face fire and blood."
Before Ava can respond, the ground rumbles beneath them.
The trial is beginning.
The Trial of Fire and Blood Begins
The ground does not simply tremble — it awakens.
Vibrations roll through the earth like the heartbeat of an ancient beast stirring beneath the surface. Dust rises. Torches flicker violently, flames stretching tall and thin as if pulled upward by unseen hands. A hush blankets the clearing, sharp and eerie, the kind of silence that feels like the world is holding its breath.
Ava stands at the center of the circle, every wolf's eyes pinned on her, every heartbeat around her syncing into one deep, animal rhythm.
She is surrounded.
She is exposed.
She is alone.
And yet… she isn't.
Because Ethan stands at the edge of the circle, carved from shadow and fury, every muscle coiled tight. His eyes are silver fire, burning through the darkness, burning through anyone foolish enough to look at her with anything but neutrality.
He looks like a storm wearing human skin, held back only by the thinnest thread of control.
A thread that could snap.
At any second.
Elara's voice slices through the tension, sharp and ceremonial.
"Bring forth the flames."
Wolves step forward with torches, driving them into the ground around Ava until she's encircled in fire. Heat licks her skin, her breath hitching as the flames rise higher, casting jagged shadows across the faces watching her.
Ava doesn't move.
Can't move.
Not from fear — from understanding.
This is the point of the trial:
To strip her of every comfort.
To isolate her.
To see if she breaks.
The pack wants to know if she can survive their world.
The flames crackle, catching the edges of dry grass. Sparks fly upward like fireflies being drawn to the moon.
Ethan steps forward immediately.
"That's enough," he snaps, voice vibrating with a low growl, half-man, half-beast. "She's not a wolf. You're pushing too—"
"Elara," a wolf interrupts, "the Alpha interferes again."
Another voice rises:
"His protection shows weakness!"
Another:
"If the human is truly bonded to him, she must withstand the fire!"
Ethan emits a warning growl that makes the torches flicker.
Ava lifts her chin.
She hates the way the pack looks at Ethan.
Hates the doubt they throw at him.
Hates how every display of his protectiveness becomes ammunition against him.
And more than anything… she hates seeing him hurt.
So she does something reckless.
Something brave.
Something terrifying.
She steps closer to the flames.
The sudden movement makes Ethan jerk forward as if the fire itself leaped at her.
"Ava," he growls, "stop."
But she doesn't.
She forces herself to stare into the fire — not away from it. Heat washes over her skin, sweat forming at her hairline. Her heart hammers, but she doesn't budge.
"I'm not weak," she says, loud enough for the pack to hear. "And I'm not afraid of fire."
It's not entirely true.
But fear has no place here.
She watches the flames dance, swallowing oxygen, devouring shadows, and she breathes through the rising heat.
Her voice shakes, but she forces strength into it.
"So if this is your tradition, your test… then let me understand it. And let me face it."
A murmur ripples through the wolves.
Ethan closes his eyes for a second, jaw clenched. She can see he's wrestling something inside himself — pride, anger, fear.
Then he whispers, low enough meant only for her:
"You're stronger than you know."
Her heart stutters.
Before she can speak, Elara raises her hand, and the circle of wolves grows silent again.
"The Trial of Fire begins," she declares.
"Let the human face the first test."
---
🔥 Test One: The Ring of Flame
The torches suddenly flare, flames doubling in height, swirling upward like a living wall. Ava gasps as the heat intensifies, forcing her back a step.
The ring of fire traps her.
Elara calls out calmly:
"You must walk the ring without stepping back. Flame is fear. Face it, or fail."
Ava's breath shakes.
She looks at Ethan.
He shakes his head violently.
"No. You take another step into that inferno and you will burn. This isn't symbolic, Ava — it's real."
Elara's reply comes sharp:
"Trials were not made for comfort."
Ava forces herself taller, ignoring the sweat dripping down her neck. Heat pulses against her skin like a thousand reaching fingers.
She takes her first step.
Flames roar.
The wolves lean forward, curiosity igniting in their eyes.
Ava feels heat blister the edges of her vision. Her skin prickles. She forces herself to breathe slow, controlled breaths the way Ethan had taught her after the battle.
Focus on oxygen.
Focus on rhythm.
Focus on the next step.
Not the fire.
She walks the arc slowly, deliberately, feeling the flames snap dangerously close to her arms. Every instinct screams at her to turn back — to escape.
Her heart races.
But she keeps going.
Because Ethan is watching.
And because she wants to show this world — his world — that she is not a burden.
When she completes the circle, she stands panting, trembling, but unbroken.
The wolves murmur with surprise.
Elara lifts her chin slightly.
"She completes the first test."
Ava feels a wave of relief wash over her.
But Ethan doesn't relax.
Not even a little.
He knows what comes next.
---
🩸 Test Two: The Blood of the Heart
Elara steps forward, carrying a ceremonial bowl carved from obsidian. Dark liquid sloshes inside it — thick, metallic-smelling.
Blood.
Ava's stomach twists.
"The second trial is this," Elara announces. "You must face the truth of your heart. The wolf within the Alpha is tied to the wolf within the pack. To stand with him, you must drink from the bond of blood."
Ava's throat tightens.
Blood.
Not symbolic blood.
Real blood.
"Absolutely not," Ethan snaps instantly. "This is the most dangerous of the trials. If she drinks the wrong blood—"
Someone interrupts:
"If she refuses, she cannot stand beside you."
Ava meets Ethan's eyes.
They are full of panic — real, raw panic — in a way she has never seen before.
She has seen him angry.
She has seen him in pain.
She has seen him violently protective.
But this…
This is fear.
Of what the blood might awaken.
Or what it might kill.
"Ava," he says softly, stepping close, "listen to me. You don't have to do this. This test wasn't meant for humans."
"But it was meant for anyone in your world, right? Anyone tied to you?" she asks.
His jaw tightens.
"Yes. But that's exactly why—"
"Then I'm doing it."
He grabs her wrist, desperation in his grip.
"No. Please. I can withstand anything — except losing you to something this stupid."
Her heartbeat stumbles.
His voice breaks on the last word.
He doesn't even try to hide it.
She places her free hand gently on his chest, right over his pounding heart.
"You're not losing me."
He closes his eyes like the words hurt.
Elara extends the bowl.
"Drink."
Ava takes it.
The wolves fall silent.
The smell is thick — rusty, heavy, primal. It triggers something in the clearing, something Ava can't name. The wolves shift restlessly. Some bare teeth. Others step back as if the ritual awakens a fear older than any of them.
Ava lifts the bowl.
Ethan flinches, moving as if he'll rip the bowl from her hands—
But Ava drinks.
One swallow.
Then two.
The blood burns her tongue, her throat, her chest. It feels too warm, like swallowing fire. She gasps as the heat spikes through her veins, then spreads in a rush like wildfire beneath her skin.
Her knees buckle.
Ethan lunges forward—but a barrier of flames erupts between them, forcing him back.
"Ava!"
His roar is feral.
She collapses to her knees, clutching her chest.
Images flash through her mind — wolves, moonlight, teeth, bones cracking, shadows shifting.
Whispers flood her mind.
Do you fear us?
Do you accept us?
Do you belong among us?
She clamps her hands over her ears, but the voices grow louder, drilling into her skull. Her heartbeat accelerates until she thinks her ribs will crack.
Ethan slams his fists into the wall of fire, trying to break through, burning his skin raw.
"Let me reach her!" he snarls.
Elara watches with a mixture of awe and fear.
"Only she can walk this path," she says.
Ava screams as the visions intensify. Her lungs burn. Her vision blurs.
She falls onto the dirt—
—but before she loses consciousness, she feels something.
A hand.
Not physical.
Not human.
A presence inside her mind.
Warm.
Powerful.
Ancient.
A wolf's heartbeat pulsing alongside hers.
---
A voice whispers:
"You are not prey."
Another:
"You are chosen."
Her eyes shoot open.
The flames around her explode upward like a column of fire.
The pack gasps.
Some fall to their knees.
Ethan finally forces through the flames, ignoring the burns shredding across his arms.
He reaches her—
—and Ava collapses into him.
But she's breathing.
Alive.
Changed.
Stronger.
She whispers against his chest:
"Ethan… I heard them."
He holds her so tightly she can't inhale.
"What did they say?" he breathes.
Her fingers curl into him.
"They said I belong."
The entire clearing falls silent.
Even the flames bow.
Because no human has ever survived the second trial.
Not in over a century.
And now every wolf stares at Ava with the same expression—
Fear.
Wonder.
Recognition.
Ethan cups her face, trembling.
"Ava… what have they awakened in you?"
She lifts her gaze.
Her eyes glint in the firelight—
—not brown.
Not human.
But streaked with gold.
The first signs of the bond.
The beginning of something forbidden.
The beginning of something unstoppable.
TO BE CONTINUED......