CHAPTER 11 : A FORBIDDEN TRAINING

The forest behind Silver Crest still felt half-asleep when Liana stepped onto the trail. The dawn was pale, the mist drifting through pines. Earthy and damp—she breathed it in, hoping the cool air would calm her nerves. Her heart wouldn’t settle. It beat so hard she was sure someone, or something, could hear it. After the ceremony two nights ago, nothing felt right. The rejection. The sudden awakening. The burn of the mark on her skin. She wasn’t herself anymore. And then there was the wolf. Last night she paced her room for hours, restless, feeling the creature underneath her skin, itching to break free—a storm caged tight. Her wolf wasn’t just awake; it was alive. Loud. Hungry. Most wolves ease into their awakening around eighteen, feeling the wolf inside first, shifting weeks later. Not her. Her wolf crashed in, like it’d been waiting for an invitation. It didn’t want to wait anymore. She tried to steady her breath. Calm down. She said it, but she couldn’t really believe it. Inside, her wolf growled: Run. Fight. Shift. The urge was electric—buzzing in every vein—and she came here for one thing. Training. If she couldn’t master it, people would notice. And after last night’s disaster, that kind of attention could ruin her. She hated that memory. The shocked faces, the whispers, the humiliation. But what stuck with her was what happened right before the Alpha rejected her. The flicker of fear in Kael’s eyes. The silent warning he mouthed as guards dragged her away: Run. Why? Why would Kael—the strongest Alpha around—reject his mate, then tell her to escape? She didn’t have answers, and right now she couldn’t afford to dwell. She had trouble enough. She stepped into the training clearing—open dirt ringed by tall stone pillars, beams of light breaking through the trees. Empty space, or so she thought. A voice called out, “You’re early.” She spun around. Jared leaned against a pillar, tall and broad-shouldered, dark hair tied back. He’d always been kind to her, even when others weren’t. “You scared me,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. He raised an eyebrow. “If I scare you that easily, training’s gonna be fun.” She sighed. “Hence why I’m here.” His face softened a bit. “Your wolf woke up early.” She nodded. “And it won’t stop pushing,” she said. He watched her a moment. “You shifted yet?” “No.” “Good.” She blinked. “Wait, good?” “If you’d shifted without any control, you’d have flattened half the forest.” She frowned. “Really?” He just grinned and walked toward the center. “Show me.” She hesitated. “How?” “Let your wolf loose.” Her stomach twisted. “I don’t know how.” He smirked. “Oh, it knows. Trust me.” He motioned to the clearing. “Focus. Don’t fight it. Let it come.” She closed her eyes. The wolf surged instantly—like opening a door to hurricane winds. Heat poured through her. Senses sharpened. She heard leaves whispering far away, smelled water beyond the trees, felt every change in the air. Her nails lengthened. Her breathing deepened. A growl slipped out. Jared’s eyes widened. “Wow. That escalated fast.” She opened her eyes. Everything looked brighter, sharper, alive. Her wolf felt triumphant—finally. She crouched, muscles tense, ready. “Easy,” Jared called out. “Control it.” She tried. It was like holding back floodwaters. She gasped out, “I—” “Breathe,” Jared said. She forced slow breaths. The wolf fought her, but she pressed it down. The growling faded. Her nails returned to normal. The pressure eased. Jared stared, then laughed in disbelief. “You gotta be kidding me,” he said. “What?” she asked. “You accessed partial shift—just like that.” “So?” He repeated, “So? Most wolves take years. You nailed it in seconds.” She blinked. “Oh.” He ran a hand over his neck. “This is… something.” He stepped closer. “Let’s test you.” He lunged suddenly. She reacted on instinct—sidestepped, grabbed his arm, flipped him hard to the dirt. Silence. Her eyes widened. “Oh no.” Jared groaned, sitting up. “Okay… didn’t see that coming.” She hurried over. “Sorry!” He stared at her. “Do you know what you just did?” “Attacked my trainer?” “No,” he said, standing. “You just flipped an Alpha-class warrior. You weigh half what I do.” Liana shifted, embarrassed. “Sorry.” He shook his head. “Again.” “What?” “Attack me.” She hesitated. “I don’t want to—” “Attack. Me.” There was a seriousness in his voice now. She stepped forward, slower this time. But the wolf pushed harder. Faster. She struck. Jared blocked once, but her second hit caught him off guard, knocking the wind out of him. The third forced him back. “You’re not even trying,” Jared said. “I am!” “No.” He studied her carefully. “You’re holding back.” She froze. Was she? Jared moved into a defensive stance. “This time, don’t hold back.” Her wolf practically shivered with excitement. She lunged. Everything happened fast. Her body moved naturally—dodging, blocking, striking before he could react. Within moments, she pinned him again, his arm twisted behind his back. She let go immediately. “Sorry—” He didn’t answer, just stared, fear flickering in his eyes. “You shouldn’t be this strong,” he said. Her chest tightened. “What?” He dusted himself off. “I’ve trained wolves for fifteen years. Never seen this.” She tried to joke. “Maybe I’m just… early?” He shook his head. “Early awakening is rare. But this—this is something else.” Her wolf shifted inside her, uneasy. She laughed nervously. “Well, that’s good, right?” He didn’t smile. “No.” The word hung there, heavy. Before she could ask why, pain flashed through her wrist. The mark glowed, burning. Jared saw it. “That mark again.” She tried to hide it. “It’s nothing.” “Liana.” His voice was sharper now. “That symbol appeared during the Blood War—five centuries ago.” Her stomach clenched. “You’re exaggerating.” “I wish I was.” The silence stretched. Then Jared asked, “Has the Alpha seen you train?” “No.” “Good.” Sharp, serious. “Why?” He looked toward the mountains, hesitating. “If he sees this…” His voice faded. She pressed, “What happens?” Jared turned back to her, eyes full of confusion—and dread. And then he asked, quietly, almost afraid— “Who exactly are you?”