I stood in the training yard, the crisp morning air biting at my skin as I tightened my grip on the training sword. I hadn't seen Magnus, Damien, or Xavier since the night we'd had our emotional talks.
"I'm not going to be weak anymore," I thought, squaring my shoulders. "I need to be strong, like them."
My trainer for the day, a broad-shouldered wolf named Cora, gave me a nod. Cora was one of the best female warriors in the pack. I had asked specifically for her. If I was going to do this, I needed the best.
"You ready, Luna?" Cora was calm. She stood at the head of the training ground, where several other she-wolves were already gathered, waiting for the session to start.
Most of them eyed me. I was human, after all, and though I was trying to prove myself, there was still doubt lingering among them.
I swallowed, gripping the sword tighter. "I'm ready."
"Good," Cora said, pacing before the group. "Keep in mind that this isn't about winning. It's about pushing yourself past your own limits."
The other she-wolves paired up quickly, leaving me standing alone for a moment. I was used to it by now, being the odd one out, the one who didn't quite belong. But I wasn't going to let that stop me.
"You'll be with me," Cora said, gesturing for me to step forward.
My heart pounded as I moved into position, facing Cora. The other women were already starting their exercises, sparring with each other, moving with speed. I gasped as I watched them, completely in sync with their wolves. I knew I couldn't compete with that. Not yet.
Cora moved first, a swift strike toward my midsection. I blocked it, but the force of the blow rattled my arms. Cora didn't give me time to recover, following up with a quick jab that sent me stumbling backward.
"Focus," Cora barked. "Stay grounded. Keep your weight balanced."
I gritted my teeth, trying to find my footing again. I swung at Cora, but the strike was clumsy, and Cora easily deflected it, stepping to the side and sweeping my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of me.
Around me, the other she-wolves flowed from one move to the next, their bodies perfectly attuned to the rhythm of the fight. Meanwhile, I struggled just to stay on my feet.
I clenched my jaw. "No way."
"Get up," Cora ordered.
I pushed myself to my feet, my muscles beginning to ache. I could feel the eyes of the other women on me. I wasn't like them. I wasn't fast, wasn't strong, wasn't a wolf. I wiped off the sweat on my forehead. I couldn't stop.
Again and again, Cora attacked, and again and again, I fell. Every time I tried to strike back, I was too slow. Every time I thought I had an opening, Cora would block me effortlessly. It was like trying to fight the wind. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't land a single blow.
The other she-wolves were finishing their drills, while I struggled just to keep up. But I kept going anyway. I had to.
By the end of the session, I was drenched in sweat, my body screaming in protest. The other women were chatting and laughing as they gathered their things, already preparing to head out, while I was still gasping for breath.
Cora stepped up beside me. "You didn't give up," she said quietly.
I nodded, too tired to speak.
"But you're slow," Cora continued bluntly. "You lack the strength and the instincts the others have. You're still a human, Luna. You can't rely on brute force or speed like they do. You need to find your own way to fight."
I looked up at her, frustration welling in my chest. "I'm trying," I said.
"I know." Cora's tone softened. "But trying isn't enough. You have to adapt. Use what you have. You're not a werewolf, not yet. So stop trying to fight like one."
I stared at the ground, my fists clenched at my sides. I knew Cora was right, but it didn't make it any easier to accept. I wanted to be strong, to be like them. But no matter how hard I tried, I was always the last, always the weakest.
"Go rest," Cora said, stepping back. "We'll pick this up tomorrow."
The sun was high in the sky as I stood in the middle of the training yard once again. My muscles ached from the previous day's session, but today, I was determined to do better.
I found myself paired with the youngest and weakest of the female trainees. A girl named Lylia, who had only just started her training. Despite Lylia's inexperience, I could barely keep up. Every strike I attempted was easily deflected, every step I took felt clumsy and slow. Lylia, who was clearly holding back, seemed hesitant to engage fully. Her blows were soft to avoid hurting the Luna.
Sweat dripped down my face and my breaths were shallow, while Lylia was barely even exhausted. My chest tightened, and tears welled up in my eyes despite my efforts to push them back.
"Stop holding back!" I shouted. "Just fight!"
Lylia hesitated. "I don't want to—"
"Do it!" I screamed. "Knock me out if you have to. Just stop treating me like I'm fragile!"
The other women standing around the training yard exchanged glances, and I could hear their whispers. They were clear enough to reach my ears.
"How is she supposed to be our Luna?" one of them murmured.
"She's as weak as an ant."
"She can't even hold her own against Lylia," another scoffed. "Pathetic."
I could feel their eyes boring into me, judging me, mocking me. My vision blurred with tears, and I instinctively glanced up. Far off, I saw Damien standing near the edge of the training grounds. He crossed his arms as he silently observed me. A few moments later, Xavier arrived, his gaze quickly finding mine. Both of their eyes were on me, watching my every move.
The fight continued, and I swung my arm. But Lylia deflected it effortlessly and knocked me down with a soft push. The fight was over before it even truly began.
I was on the ground, gasping for breath, while Lylia stood above me. The murmurs grew louder around me.
"She's not cut out for this," one voice said.
"Maybe rejecting her…"
My blood ran cold and the soft voices faded. I had heard about it before. A way for a mate to sever the bond if they believed their mate wasn't worthy. The whispers were loud as if they were meant for me to hear. And they were right. I felt every word they spoke.
My throat tightened as I rose to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. The whispers continued, slicing into me like knives. My hands clenched into fists. Nothing could change the truth. I wasn't strong. I wasn't enough.
As the training session ended, I kept my head down, avoiding the glances and mutterings of the other women as I walked back toward the pack house. I could barely hold myself together until, halfway back, I encountered Damien and Xavier.
"You did great today, Andra," Damien said with a smile.
Xavier nodded. "You're pushing yourself harder every day. We're proud of you."
But their words felt hollow. I could barely look them in the eye as I stood there.
When they fully turned to me, they saw the tears streaming down my face.
"Reject me," I whispered firmly.