The sun hung low, painting the pack's stone training ring in streaks of copper and shadow. Vexa stood at the center, her silver blade loose in her hand, her breath misting the cold air. The scent of pine and wolf musk clung to her clothes, and the bond with Rook thrummed with a mix of anxiety and stubborn pride. Around the ring, the Gray Wolves had gathered—fur bristling, eyes fixed on her, murmurs of distrust rippling through the crowd.
Lira stepped forward, her human form tall and unyielding, her hair the color of storm clouds. "Kael," she called, her voice cutting through the noise.
A man emerged from the crowd, broad-shouldered and scarred, his gaze like shards of ice. He was clad in leather armor, a war axe strapped to his back, and his presence seemed to suck the warmth from the air. When his eyes landed on Vexa, a snarl curled his lips.
"Half-blood," he spat, his voice a low growl. "You think you can stand against a wolf warrior?"
Vexa's grip tightened on her blade. "I don't think. I know."
Kael laughed, a harsh, barking sound that echoed off the stones. He drew his axe, the metal glinting in the sunset. "Then let's see if your pretty blade can save you."
The crowd fell silent. Lira raised a hand, then dropped it. "Begin."
Kael charged, his axe swinging in a brutal arc. Vexa ducked, the blade grazing her shoulder, and countered with a slash of her silver blade. The metal bit into his armor, leaving a deep gash, and Kael roared in pain. He stumbled back, his eyes widening—silver was poison to wolves, and the wound already smoked.
"Cheater," he snarled, wiping blood from his cheek. "You use silver against a wolf?"
"You use an axe against a hunter," Vexa shot back, circling him. "Fair is fair."
Kael lunged again, his axe aimed at her chest. Vexa parried, the impact sending a jolt up her arms, and kicked his knee. He grunted, stumbling, and she drove her blade into his thigh. He fell to one knee, growling, but didn't surrender. Instead, he swept his axe low, catching her ankle and sending her crashing to the ground.
Her blade skittered across the stone. Kael loomed over her, axe raised, and Vexa grabbed a handful of dirt, flinging it into his eyes. He howled, stumbling back, and she scrambled to her feet, retrieving her blade. By the time he'd wiped the dirt away, she was standing ready, her blade pointed at his throat.
"Yield," she said, her voice steady.
Kael stared at her, his chest heaving, his pride warring with the pain of the silver wounds. For a long moment, he didn't move. Then, with a snarl, he threw his axe to the ground. "I yield."
The crowd erupted in a mix of boos and reluctant cheers. Lira stepped forward, her gaze sharp but unreadable. "You've won," she said, her tone cold. "For now. But the pack's trust is not easily earned."
Vexa nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She sheathed her blade, then turned to find Rook standing at the edge of the ring, his expression a mix of relief and worry. He crossed to her, his hand brushing the cut on her shoulder.
"You're hurt," he said, his voice soft.
"I've had worse," she replied, but winced as he pressed a cloth to the wound.
As they walked back to the pack's camp, the Shadow Eaters watched from the trees. Their leader, a figure wrapped in black robes, smiled beneath his hood. "The half-blood grows stronger," he murmured, his voice a hiss. "But the pack still doubts her. And doubt… is our greatest weapon."
Back in the camp, Lira approached Vexa as she tended to her wounds. She tossed a pouch of herbs at her feet. "For the silver burns," she said, her tone less hostile. "They'll fester if you don't treat them."
Vexa looked up, surprised. "Thank you."
Lira nodded, her gaze flicking to Rook. "He cares about you. More than he'll admit."
"I know," Vexa said, glancing at him as he spoke to a group of warriors.
"Then don't make him regret it," Lira said, turning to leave. "The curse is not the only thing that can destroy him."
That night, Vexa sat by the fire, the herbs stinging her wounds as she applied them. Rook joined her, handing her a cup of warm mead. "You did well," he said.
"I had to," she replied, taking a sip. "Your pack needed to see I'm not a threat."
"They'll never fully trust you," he said, his voice grim. "Not after everything that's happened."
Vexa smiled, a faint, tired curve of her lips. "Then I'll just have to keep proving them wrong."
As the fire crackled, the bond between them hummed with something new—not just doubt, but hope. And somewhere in the shadows, the Shadow Eaters waited, their patience a weapon as deadly as any blade.