Blackridge didn't celebrate.
That was the first thing I noticed after what happened at the border.
No cheers. No dramatic reactions. The warriors returned to their duties with calm efficiency, as if witnessing a power shift wasn't something worth gawking at. Respect here was quiet. Earned. Solid.
It unsettled me more than awe ever could.
Lucien walked beside me as we returned from the ridge, his presence steady at my shoulder. He didn't touch me again after catching my arm, but the awareness lingered—like my skin remembered his grip.
"You handled that well," he said.
"I didn't know I could do that," I admitted.
"Most don't," he replied. "Power reveals itself when it's no longer afraid."
That felt pointed.
We stopped near the training grounds. Wolves slowed subtly, pretending not to watch while absolutely watching. Lucien didn't acknowledge them.
"You'll train," he said. "Not to make you dangerous—but to make you precise."
"I don't want to be a weapon," I said quickly.
His gaze met mine. "Good. Weapons break."
That answer stayed with me.
He assigned a guard to me—not to confine, but to accompany. A woman named Nyra, sharp-eyed and quiet, who didn't speak unless necessary. She showed me the pack, the rules that weren't written down: where not to walk at night, who didn't like being challenged, which elders listened more than they spoke.
By midday, exhaustion crept in.
Power wasn't free. It took something out of me, left a hum beneath my skin that made it hard to focus.
"You need rest," Nyra said.
I hesitated. "Lucien said—"
"Lucien forgets bodies aren't built like his," she replied dryly.
That almost made me smile.
When I returned to my quarters, Lucien was already there, leaning against the doorway like he'd been waiting longer than he intended.
"You pushed too hard," he said.
"So did you," I countered.
His mouth twitched. "Fair."
He stepped aside to let me pass, then followed me in, closing the door—but not locking it.
"I won't always be this close," he said. "But for now, until we understand what you are, I'll keep watch."
The words sent a strange warmth through me.
"Does that bother you?" I asked.
"No," he said honestly. "Does it bother you?"
I considered it.
"No," I said.
The silence that followed wasn't empty. It was charged—full of things neither of us was ready to name.
Lucien moved to the window, scanning the grounds out of habit. "Kael will try again," he said. "Not openly."
"I'm not afraid of him," I said, surprised to find it was true.
Lucien turned slowly. "You should be careful saying that."
"I didn't say I was reckless."
A beat.
Then he smiled—small, real.
"That," he said, "is exactly why I trust you."
Trust.
The word settled between us, heavier than desire.
As night approached, I lay down, my wolf alert but calm. Lucien took a chair near the door, arms folded, gaze sharp even as his posture relaxed.
"You don't sleep much," I murmured.
"Enough," he replied.
I watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling the strange pull—not a bond, not hunger. Something slower. Intentional.
When sleep finally claimed me, it wasn't alone.
For the first time, I slept under someone's watch—not as a possession…
…but as a choice.
I woke to movement.
Not the jolt of fear I'd known in Nightclaw, but the quiet awareness of someone shifting position nearby. The room was dim, the sky outside just beginning to pale. Lucien was still in the chair, one arm braced on his knee, gaze fixed on the door like he hadn't moved all night.
"You didn't sleep," I said softly.
"I rested," he replied. "There's a difference."
I sat up slowly, testing the strange hum beneath my skin. It was still there—but steadier now, like a river instead of a storm.
"It feels… quieter," I said.
Lucien studied me. "Because you're no longer fighting yourself."
A knock interrupted us.
Nyra stepped in without waiting for permission. "Scouts returned. No breach, but Nightclaw is repositioning."
My jaw tightened. "They're circling."
"Yes," Lucien said. "And waiting for you to falter."
I swung my legs over the bed. "Then I won't."
Lucien rose. "You'll train this morning."
Nyra's brow lifted. "Already?"
"She held the border last night," Lucien replied. "If we delay, she doubts herself."
That wasn't mercy.
That was strategy.
The training grounds were already active when we arrived. The moment Lucien stepped into view, the pace shifted—sharper, more focused. No one challenged his presence. No one questioned why I was beside him.
Lucien stopped at the center circle. "You won't fight today," he said. "You'll listen."
I frowned. "To what?"
"To the land," he answered. "To your body. Power that isn't understood becomes noise."
He gestured for me to step forward.
I closed my eyes.
At first, there was nothing but wind and distant movement. Then—slowly—the ground answered. Not with force, but recognition. I felt the edges of Blackridge like a pulse, steady and unyielding.
My wolf leaned into it.
Not claiming.
Aligning.
"Good," Lucien murmured. "That's it."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the gathered wolves—not disbelief, but acknowledgment.
I opened my eyes, breath steady. "I didn't push."
"No," Lucien said. "You allowed."
Something shifted then—not just in me, but in how the pack looked at me. I wasn't being assessed anymore.
I was being placed.
Later, as the training dispersed, Lucien walked with me toward the ridge path.
"You don't lead with dominance," he said. "That's rare."
"Kael did," I said quietly.
Lucien didn't disagree. "And that's why his power is brittle."
We stopped where the trees thinned, the air cool and sharp.
"You know this complicates things," he said.
"I know," I replied. "But I'm not leaving."
His gaze held mine. "I didn't ask you to."
A beat passed.
Then—carefully—he reached out and brushed his knuckles against my wrist. Just once. A question, not a claim.
My wolf stirred—not in alarm.
In curiosity.
Lucien stilled instantly. "Tell me to stop."
"Don't," I said.
The contact didn't deepen. He didn't pull me closer. He simply let his hand rest there for a breath—long enough for us both to acknowledge what was forming.
When he stepped back, the space he left felt deliberate.
"This," he said quietly, "will be slow."
I nodded. "Good."
As we turned back toward the pack, I felt it—certainty settling in my bones.
Kael had awakened something in me through rejection.
Lucien was teaching me what to do with it.
And that difference…
would change everything.