(Mari POV)
The morning air bit like knives through my skin as Asha and I emerged into the training grounds. Mist curled around the stone pillars like the ghosts of past victories, hiding the edges of the cliffs, the remnants of shattered trees, and the scars the Nightblade had left on our territory. I could still smell the smoke from the battle months ago, even as the sun rose pale over the mountains. It clung to the land like a memory.
Asha stood a few feet behind me, her stance ready but deferential, eyes scanning the ground as if expecting an ambush. She was smaller than me, yes, only sixteen, but fast, precise, and utterly loyal. She followed my lead in every strike, every maneuver, but she was more than just a shadow. She had instincts of her own, honed in the ways of Nightblade, sharpened by necessity. And I relied on that.
"Focus," I said, my voice low and commanding, the authority of someone who would soon inherit everything radiating from me. My wolf stirred beneath my skin, coiling tighter, sensing the rhythm of power in the air. Asha's wolf hummed quietly, waiting for my command.
"Always, Mari," she said, bowing her head slightly, hands gripping her training sword. The way she deferred was never weakness—it was trust. And I never betrayed that trust.
We began with strikes. Blades flashed under the morning light, colliding with a sound that cut through the silence like lightning. Asha was quick, her movements precise, a blur of motion as she tried to match me. But I was seventeen, stronger, faster, more ruthless in my control. Every swing, every pivot, every feint was calculated. Every strike was meant to teach her as much as it honed me.
"You're moving too slow," I snapped, forcing her to backstep. "Speed isn't enough. Anticipate. Think two steps ahead. Your wolf will tell you if you listen."
She gritted her teeth, adjusting her stance, eyes narrowing. "I'm listening," she said. "I hear it."
"Then show me," I said, shifting my weight, pressing forward. The air seemed to bend around us as we moved in synchronized motion, blades flashing, wolf instincts guiding us in tandem. My wolf nudged at the edges of my mind, whispering strategies, pointing out weaknesses I didn't even notice in Asha's stance.
She struck again, faster this time, but I sidestepped and countered, pressing her back toward the edge of the training circle. "Not enough," I said. "You anticipate. You control. You dominate."
Asha's breath came faster now, but her expression was steady. "Yes, Mari," she said. "I will."
We took a break. I crouched by the edge of the cliff, the wind whipping around us, tossing my hair across my face. The smell of wet earth and burned trees lingered, and I let it settle into my senses. My wolf shifted beneath me, restless, coiling tighter with every gust. Soon… soon, I would finally hear it fully.
Asha leaned against a stone pillar, watching me. "You're quiet," she observed. "What are you thinking?"
"Everything," I said simply. "About the Moon. About the ritual. About what comes next."
She tilted her head. "The Moon Goddess will choose you soon. You'll hear your wolf then, fully. We've trained for this. You'll be ready."
I let a smirk curl at the edge of my lips. "Of course I'll be ready. Nothing surprises me."
She smiled faintly, but I could see her concern. She was loyal, yes, but smart enough to know the storm inside me—the part that would burn anyone who underestimated me. I didn't need her concern. I needed her focus. And she had it.
We resumed training, moving into more complex drills. Our wolves hummed in our minds, communicating subtly, nudging, suggesting, guiding. Each strike we landed on the wooden posts, each maneuver, each simulated attack, felt sharper than the last. The physical training was secondary. The mental discipline, the control over our instincts, the synchronization with our wolves—that was what mattered.
"You're not centered," I said, sidestepping another of her swings. "Your mind wanders. Your wolf feels it. The moment it senses doubt, you're dead in a real fight."
"I'm not doubting," she said, snapping into her stance again. "I'm ready."
"Then act like it," I said. My wolf pressed closer, coiling in my chest like liquid steel. "Let it guide you. Feel it. Trust it. Dominate it—and through it, dominate me."
For the next hour, we moved like predators in perfect rhythm. The mist swirled around us, the sun rising higher, but the air remained cold, sharp, electrified with anticipation. My wolf whispered, nudged, reminded me of power waiting beneath my skin. Asha's wolf was eager, always eager, always learning, always loyal. She followed, not blindly, but as a partner in the dance.
Finally, I stepped back, letting my chest heave. "Enough for now," I said. My voice carried authority, finality. "We've pushed far enough today."
Asha dropped her sword, wiping sweat from her brow, her expression proud. "We did well," she said. "You pushed me to the edge again, Mari. As always."
"And you survived," I said, eyes glinting. "Which is more than most could manage."
We left the training circle, moving toward the cliffs overlooking Nightblade territory. The air was quiet now, but the memory of battle lingered. Every scar, every broken tree, every destroyed structure from Nightblade's assault reminded me of why we trained. Why we endured. Why power mattered.
"You're ready," I said softly, more to myself than to Asha. "Soon, the Moon Goddess will call. Soon, my wolf will speak, and everything will change."
Asha fell silent, standing beside me. She didn't need to speak. She understood. She always did. And when the day came, we would be unstoppable. Together, we would dominate Nightblade, our territory, and every threat that dared rise against us.
For now, we trained. For now, we prepared. For now, the fire within me simmered, coiled and ready. And when the Moon called, when my eighteenth birthday came, that fire would become a storm—one that even Mari Ventor herself could not contain.