The forest still clung to me in the morning.
Every muscle ached from the previous day's run, the pads of my feet sore even in human form. I'd slept like the dead, sprawled across the bed in my shift, still faintly smelling of damp earth and crushed leaves. But the soreness wasn't the only thing lingering.
It was the voices. The strange, impossible voices.
I'd heard them in my head. The Lycans, speaking as wolves, as clearly as if they'd been standing in the room.
it was impossible. I certainly wasn't a Lycan. I wasn't even a wolf shifter. But there it was, the memory of their words still whispering along my bones.
I sat up, rubbing my arms, but the unease didn't shake off.
A shadow passed the window. I rose, crossing the room to peer down into the courtyard.
Derek, Callum, Tristan, and William were gathered near the training yard. They weren't sparring. They were arguing.
Callum's voice carried up first, sly and sharp. "You heard her as well as I did."
"She's a fox," Derek snapped, pacing like a caged predator. "It was a fluke. An accident."
Tristan leaned against the fence, smirking faintly. "Accidents don't carry words. She said something, Derek. Don't pretend you didn't hear it."
William said nothing, but the weight in his stance was worse than words.
I should have walked away. Should have pretended I hadn't heard a thing. Instead, I stayed at the window, listening until the conversation broke apart and the men dispersed.
A knock rattled my door, startling me out of my thoughts.
"His Majesty says you're to report to the yard." A young boy stood in my doorway, avoiding my eyes. "Training begins immediately."
He scurried off before I could reply.
---***---***---***---
The morning was sharp and bright when I stepped into the yard, the wooden boards of the fence warm under my palm. Derek was already in the ring, rolling his shoulders and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Callum lounged nearby, all lazy confidence. Tristan and William stood off to the side, their expressions unreadable.
No King.
"Finally." Derek jerked his gaze to me. "The Fox graces us with her presence."
I tilted my head. "Careful, Derek. You might almost sound like you missed me."
The corner of Callum's mouth curved. Tristan made a noise that might have been a chuckle. Derek's eyes narrowed.
"Obstacle course." His voice was flat as he jerked his chin toward a line of high walls, dangling ropes, narrow beams, and half-buried logs that looked designed to snap an ankle. "You'll fail it. But I want to see just how bad you are."
"Encouraging." My voice dripped with sarcasm. "We should probably work on that."
I climbed the fence, dropping lightly into the ring. The packed dirt was warm against the soles of my boots. I took a slow breath, rolling my shoulders.
"Ready?" Tristan gave me a pleasantly bland smile.
"Always."
The course was clearly built for Lycans, with their taller bodies and longer strides. But I wasn't trying to match them. I was built for quick pivots, sharp turns, and low, darting speed.
I hit the first wall at a run, gripping the top and swinging myself over before my feet even touched wood. The ropes swayed wildly as I crossed them, but my balance held. I slid under a beam, hopped a low fence, and ducked a swinging log without breaking stride.
By the time I dropped from the final wall, my lungs were burning. But the silence from the men told me enough.
"Better luck next time." I said lightly, brushing dirt from my palms.
Callum let out a low whistle. "Not bad for someone who's never done it before."
Derek didn't answer.
Funny they assumed I'd never had to move like that. Apparently they never had a Killian to deal with. This was a walk in the park compared to running from my brother.
---***---***---***---
The next test was blade work.
They handed me a short sword. It was heavier than I expected, the grip unfamiliar. I curled my fingers around it, flexing my wrist to test the weight.
"Ever held one?" Derek looked almost hopeful.
"No." I admitted.
That seemed to please him. "Perfect. Let's fix that."
The first few passes were clumsy. Derek moved faster than I could think, the edge of his blade flashing in the sun. He didn't hit me, but the near misses were deliberate. He was showing me how easily he could have cut me down.
After the fifth strike, something in my muscles woke. My feet began moving without me thinking about it, slipping into a rhythm I recognized from long ago. Stolen afternoons watching Killian train in the yard against my father's guards. I'd memorized every shift of stance, every feint.
I blocked. Once. Twice.
Derek's eyes narrowed.
I spun the sword, testing a counterstrike. The move wasn't pretty, but it was enough to push him back a step.
"Where the hell did you learn that?" He demanded.
Before I could answer, another voice cut across the yard.
"Enough."
Tomas stood just beyond the fence, arms folded. I hadn't heard him approach. His gaze flicked from Derek to me, unreadable.
"She's adapting." The King glared at Derek. "Don't break her yet."
The words shouldn't have meant anything. But something in the way he said them, in the faint edge beneath, prickled along my skin.
---***---***---***---
Training ended abruptly. The others drifted away, but Tomas lingered.
"Walk with me." He stalked off, not even bothering to glance back.
I followed him to the far edge of the yard, the boards of the fence shadowing us from view. The air here was cooler, the forest close enough that I could smell pine and damp earth.
"The fox trick yesterday." His eyes pinned me in place. "That shouldn't be possible. So how did you do it, little Fox?"
I made my voice light. "I was just caught up in the moment."
"Don't lie to me, little Fox." He stepped closer, close enough that the heat of him brushed my skin. "If you're something other than what you claim." His gaze dropped, then lifted again, sharper. "I'll find out."
And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with my pulse in my throat.
---***---***---***---
I headed back toward my rooms, the dirt from the yard still on my boots. The corridor was quiet, but the low murmur of voices made me pause just before turning the corner.
"She's not Lycan." Callum was saying.
"No." Tristan agreed. "But she can't be just a fox either. No shifter has mind-speak. We've tested this over and over.'
Silence.
"So what is she?" William spoke, voice soft with concern.
I pressed my back to the wall, a shiver sliding over my skin. I didn't have an answer for them. And that was the part that frightened me most.