That I can promise to do.
The tension between us eases, and I follow Zella into the training room with a lighter step.
“We’ll start with the basics,” she says, moving to the center of the floor. “Stance, balance, leverage. You don’t have a wolf’s strength, but you have other advantages.”
“Like what?” I ask skeptically.
“You’re smaller, potentially faster if trained properly. Your center of gravity is lower.” She circles me, assessing. “And your sight is an advantage, as Lithia and Dane can attest.”
I grin. My lessons in predicting their movements have come along in leaps and bounds, so much so Lithia hasn’t managed to land a hand on me in two days.
Zella takes a fighting stance. “Now, let’s see what you’re working with. Try to hit me.”
The next hour passes in a blur of instruction, correction, and repetition. Zella proves a patient but demanding teacher, showing me how to use an opponent’s size and strength against them, how to target vulnerable points, how to fall without injury when thrown.
To my surprise, I find myself enjoying the physical exertion after days of mental training. There’s something liberating about learning to defend myself actively rather than always relying on my visions.
“You’re a quick study,” Zella comments as we take a water break. “Most beginners struggle more with the basic forms.”
I wipe sweat from my brow, pleasantly exhausted. “I’ve spent a lifetime observing how wolves move. Maybe some of it rubbed off.”
Her head tilts thoughtfully. “Maybe.”
Before I can respond, the training hall door opens to admit a group of younger wolves—perhaps only six or seven years old by the look of them, led by an older male I recognize from the council meeting.
“Alpha Female,” they greet me with varying degrees of awkwardness and respect.
The instructor inclines his head. “We didn’t mean to interrupt your training.”
“We were just finishing,” Zella assures him, then turns to me with a smile. “Same time tomorrow?”
I nod, grateful for both the session and her friendship. As we leave the training hall, I notice the young wolves watching me with undisguised curiosity.
On impulse, I cross to them, smiling at their instructor. “May I be introduced?”
For the next few minutes, the bubbly pups surround me, asking questions and chatting about their lessons. They’re enthusiastic and adorable bundles of arms and legs.
“They’ll be talking about this for days,” Zella comments as we walk toward the bathing chambers.
“About what?” I ask, still learning the intricacies of pack protocol.
“Meeting you. In most packs it’s unheard of foryoungsters to meet an alpha. Wasn’t it like that in your pack?”
I shrug. “I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t exactly integrated into the pack hierarchy.”
Zella nods. “Well, let me tell you, it’s very unusual.”
“How long have you been with the pack?” I ask as we enter the bathing chamber, the mineral-rich pools steaming invitingly.
“Five years,” she answers, stripping efficiently and sliding into the water. “They took me in when no one else would.”
I follow her example, easing my sore muscles into the heated pool with a grateful sigh. “What happened?”
A shadow crosses her face. “My original pack was... traditional. Females were expected to know their place and to submit to the strongest males regardless of preference.” Her fingers trace patterns in the water’s surface. “I refused a claiming. Fought back when forced. They cast me out—damaged goods, as they said.”
My heart aches for her. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugs, the gesture deliberately casual though pain lingers in her eyes. “Ryker found me half dead from silver poisoning. Brought me back to the Shadowmist, healed me, offered me a place.” Her smile returns. “Here, I’m valued for my tracking skills, not my breeding potential. It’s a nice change.”
