Chapter Three
Adria's days were long and brutal. The clan tested her at every opportunity, their cruelty relentless. She could not run as the others did. She could not leap as the others did. Every failed attempt to follow their lessons earned sharp words, biting glares, and sometimes claws pressed painfully against her small frame.
"You will never be one of us," one of the older foxes spat, her teeth bared. "You are cursed. Nothing but a weak shadow."
Adria shrank back, chest tight, but inside, the warmth stirred again. That spark she had felt in death now thrummed through her veins. She did not understand it yet, but it whispered that weakness was a choice, not a fate.
Night brought no relief. She curled into the corner of the cold den, listening to the clan rest around her, their whispers cutting deeper than any blow. Memories of her human life returned, sharp and painful. Her husband's betrayal, the way he had killed her, the helplessness of it all. Rage flared. She clenched her tiny paws until the fur on her knuckles whitened.
"I will not be weak again," she whispered, louder this time. The words felt different. Stronger. Real.
In the shadows of the den, her body tingled. The faintest glow radiated from her tails, though they were still small, unformed. She had not noticed it before because she had been too terrified. But now, in the quiet, she saw it a shimmer, faint as moonlight, flickering along her back.
She had power. She could feel it. And though she did not understand it, it was enough to ignite hope.
The next morning brought more tests. The clan gathered in the training grounds, the open clearing surrounded by jagged cliffs. The older foxes demonstrated their strength, sleek and precise, tails flicking with power. Adria tried to mimic them. She stumbled, fell, and scraped her paws on the rocky ground. Laughter erupted around her.
"You are a disgrace," one said, hissing with contempt. "We will never survive if one of our own is this weak."
Adria's ears flattened against her head. The world felt cruel and unfair. But she would not give them the satisfaction of breaking her completely. She rose, shaking the dust from her fur, ignoring the mocking eyes.
And then she heard it a low growl from the edge of the clearing. Her ears pricked. Something moved in the shadows, watching. The presence was strong, predatory. She had felt power before, in herself, but this was different. Dangerous. Alive.
Her heart pounded. She crouched, instinct screaming at her to flee, yet her spark of defiance refused to let her. Whatever it was, it had noticed her. And in that moment, Adria realized her life was about to become far more dangerous than the cruelty of her clan.
She straightened her small frame and let the warmth in her chest burn brighter. She would survive. She would not be weak again.
The shadow stirred. And then it moved closer.