Chapter 5 FIRST TRAINING

I woke up the next morning still feeling like absolute shit. Every muscle in my body screamed, especially that empty hole in my chest where the mate bond used to sit. It was like someone had punched a fist through me and left the wound open.

The hard cot didn’t help. The baggy black clothes from yesterday smelled like the camp, pine and cold and they hung off me like they didn’t belong. I sat up slow, rubbing my chest, hoping my wolf would say something. Anything. But she was still quiet. Just this faint, tired shadow inside me that made the loneliness hit even harder.

Mira banged on the door without waiting. “Training field. Now. Alpha said you work for your keep, so get moving.”

I pulled on the clothes and followed her outside. The camp was already alive with wolves training, carrying supplies, talking in low voices. The second I stepped out, the stares hit me again. Same whispers. Same growls. My face burned with shame, but I kept walking, jaw locked tight. I wasn’t going to let them see how much it still hurt.

The training field was a muddy clearing ringed by pines. A group of wolves was already there, sparring hard. They all stopped when I walked up. The big guy from yesterday, the one with the cheek scar smirked and crossed his arms.

“Look who decided to show up,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Bloodmoon’s little stray thinks she can train with us?”

A few others laughed. My stomach twisted. I felt so small standing there, body still weak from the rejection, clothes that didn’t fit, face still scratched from the forest. But I lifted my chin anyway.

“I didn’t come here to be your punching bag,” I said, voice shaking a little but steady enough. “I’m here because Ronan said I stay. So let’s get this over with.”

Mira tossed me a wooden training staff. “Pair up with Jax. Try not to fall on your face.”

Jax was the scarred guy. He grinned like Christmas came early. We started circling each other. My arms felt like lead. Every swing made my shoulders burn. He came at me fast, staff cracking against mine so hard it almost knocked me down. I stumbled back, breathing heavy.

“Pathetic,” he sneered. “No wonder your Alpha threw you out like trash. You can’t even hold a staff right.”

The words hit like a slap. Shame rushed through me so strong my eyes stung. I thought about Lucifer’s cold voice in the hall, the way the whole pack watched me get dragged out, Serena smiling while I cried. My grip tightened on the staff until my knuckles went white.

“Shut the fuck up,” I snapped, swinging harder. The staff connected with his side, but it was weak. He laughed and shoved me back. I hit the mud on my ass, pain shooting up my spine. The other wolves chuckled. My chest felt tight, like I couldn’t breathe right. I was so tired of being the weak one. So tired of people looking at me like I was nothing.

I pushed myself up, mud all over my pants, tears burning behind my eyes. “Again,” I said, voice cracking. “Come at me again.”

Jax came faster this time. His staff cracked against my ribs. I gasped and doubled over, the pain mixing with the leftover ache from the rejection. My wolf stayed silent. No help. No rage. Just me, alone and hurting in front of strangers who already hated me.

Then, in the middle of that low moment, something shifted.

"Not… broken," a faint voice whispered inside my head. My wolf. So quiet I almost thought I imagined it. "Fight… little one."

It was just a whisper, tired and weak, but it was there. My eyes widened. For the first time since the banishment, she spoke. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make my chest feel a little less empty. I straightened up, breathing hard, and swung the staff again. This time I caught Jax off guard and clipped his arm.

He growled and came at me harder, but I dodged...barely. My legs shook, but I kept moving.

Mira called a break after another round where I ended up on the ground again. I sat on a log at the edge, chest heaving, sweat and mud mixing on my face. My ribs hurt. My pride hurt worse. I pressed a hand to my stomach without thinking. That strange cramp came back, deeper this time, like something small and insistent was there. I rubbed it, confused and scared. It wasn’t hunger. It felt… different. Like my body was trying to tell me something I wasn’t ready to hear.

Ronan walked over and stopped right in front of me. He didn’t sit. Just stood there, looking down with those serious green eyes. His jaw was tight, like he was holding something back.

“You’re pushing too hard,” he said quietly. “Your body’s still recovering from the rejection. You don’t have to prove anything to them today.”

I looked up at him, eyes stinging. “Yeah? Tell that to the guy who just called me trash. Or to the whole pack that’s staring at me like I’m going to bring hunters down on them. I don’t have a choice. I have to prove I’m not useless or you'll kick me out too.”

He didn’t answer right away. His green eyes stayed on mine, and something in them shifted ...a flicker, like he was seeing me different all of a sudden. His shoulders tensed. His jaw worked like he was fighting the words.

Then my wolf whispered again, clearer this time. "Mate… he's ours. He's our mate."

My stomach dropped. The words hit me like a punch. Mate. Him. Ronan. The pull I thought died with Lucifer was suddenly there, faint but real, tugging at the empty spot in my chest. I felt it... the way his scent cut through the mud and sweat, the way his eyes locked on me like he was trying not to step closer. It wasn’t strong like Lucifer’s had been at first. It was quieter. Deeper. But it was there.

I swallowed hard, throat tight. “How long have you known?”

Ronan didn’t pretend he didn’t understand. He looked away for a second, jaw tight, then back at me. His voice was low and blunt. “Since the border. The moment you crossed and that moon burst hit me, I felt the pull. But I’m not interested in chasing it. Not now. Not when you’re still this broken. I’m not Lucifer. I don’t use people just because the bond says I can.”

His words stung, but they also made something loosen in my chest. He wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t lying or playing games. He was just… honest. Brutal, like always. And for some reason that made the fear in me ease a little.

“I don’t want it either,” I said, voice cracking. “I just got ripped apart by one mate. I’m not looking for another. So don’t worry. I’m not going to throw myself at you or anything.”

He gave a short nod, like that was exactly what he wanted to hear. But his shoulders stayed tense, and his eyes lingered on me a second longer than they needed to. “Good. Rest tonight. Tomorrow we’ll go slower. You’re not useless. You’re just… not ready yet.”

He walked away before I could say anything else. I watched him go, my hand still on my stomach. The cramp was still there, softer now, but it felt connected to everything... the wolf whisper, the faint pull toward Ronan, the way my body was changing in ways I didn’t understand.

The camp was still watching me. The hate was still there. Hunters were probably still out there looking. But that tiny whisper from my wolf, and Ronan’s blunt honesty about the bond, gave me something I hadn’t had since the ceremony.

A small, stubborn reason to keep standing.

I wiped my face, stood up on shaky legs, and went back to the firewood pile. I wasn’t strong yet. But I was still here.

And right now, that had to be enough.