training began at dawn.
Always at dawn.
They said it was when the veil between body and spirit was thinnest, when the wolf stirred closest to the surface. When the land itself was still half-asleep and more willing to listen.
I was led to different places each day.
Stone courtyards wrapped in ivy.
Clearings ringed with standing stones carved in runes I couldn’t read.
High terraces overlooking the endless green where the wind sang constantly.
The wolves who trained were not soldiers.
They were elders.
So old enough that their hair had faded silver.
So young, their power sharp and contained, eyes too knowing for their age.
They never raised their voices.
Never rushed .
Never showed frustration.
Which sohow made it worse.
"Stand barefoot," one instructed gently.
The stone beneath my feet was cool, almost humming, as if sothing beneath it recognized .
"Close your eyes."
I did.
"Breathe," another voice murmured. "Not into your lungs. Into your bones."
I inhaled slowly, deeply, the way they had taught .
Again.
And again.
"Now listen."
I listened.
At first, there was only my heartbeat.
The faint rush of blood in my ears.
The distant call of birds.
Then I felt Sothing else.
A pull.
Low.
Deep.
Heavy.
My wolf.
She was there.
Curled tight and coiled like a sleeping storm.
Hope surged through so suddenly it almost hurt.
"I feel her," I whispered.
The elders exchanged glances.
"Good," one said softly. "Don’t reach for her. Let her co to you."
I tried.
I relaxed my shoulders.
Lowered my guard.
Let my awareness sink inward.
Co to .
Nothing happened.
Instead, I felt pressure.
Like a hand braced against my chest from the inside.
Not pushing outward.
Holding back.
"Why won’t you move?" I whispered, frustration creeping into my voice.
A mory flared unbidden and then Chains.
Cold stone.
Whispers of unshifted.
Broken.
My breath hitched.
The pressure hardened instantly.
I felt sothing tightening chains around and I withdrew in pain still trying to hold on.
"She’s resisting," one elder murmured. "Stop."
I opened my eyes, gasping.
Sweat soaked my spine.
"That’s fine," another said quickly. "That’s information."
Information.
They tried again later.
Different thods.
They placed their palms against my back, channeling warmth into my spine.
They traced sigils in the air above my head that shimred briefly before fading.
They had kneel beneath the open sky during a full moon, silver light washing over my skin.
"Call her na," one whispered.
"I don’t know her na," I admitted.
That unsettled them.
"Every wolf knows their own," soone said quietly.
I swallowed. "I don’t."
They guided into water next.
A shallow pool fed by a natural spring.
"The body rembers before the mind," they explained.
The water was warm, infused with herbs that slled sharp and sweet. They subrged slowly, supporting my weight as my stomach floated slightly.
"Feel how the water carries you," they said. "Your wolf understands balance."
I closed my eyes again.
I felt her then.
Clearer.
Closer.
She stirred.
A ripple passed through my spine.
Hope flared and just when I thought I was about to feel her close up to , she slamd shut.
Pain exploded behind my eyes.
I cried out, clutching my stomach as sothing inside recoiled violently.
"Enough!" one of them snapped.
Hands grabbed imdiately, pulling upright, wrapping warm cloaks around my shoulders.
"She’s not sleeping," one elder said grimly. "She’s bound."
"Yes," another agreed. "This is not natural suppression."
"What kind is it?" soone asked.
"Royal sealing," ca the answer.
The words sent a chill through .
Royal.
A mber of the royal family had sealed my wolf?
The mysteries were too much for .
"She’s fighting it," another murmured. "Hard."
I laughed weakly through my tears. "She’s stubborn."
A silence followed.
"No," one elder said softly. "She’s afraid."
That broke sothing in .
After that, they stopped pushing so hard.
My body was changing rapidly now.
My belly was heavy, pulling forward.
My back burned constantly.
Even standing for too long made my legs tremble.
So nights, the baby moved so strongly it stole my breath.
They adjusted.
Training beca shorter.
Gentler.
More observational.
And when it was clear that forcing my wolf would do more harm than good...
They brought the mid-wife she wolves.
They treated my body like sothing precious.
Warm oils rubbed into aching muscles.
Soft hands easing pressure from my hips.
Low songs humd as they worked, voices blending into sothing ancient and comforting.
"Your child is strong," one woman said after pressing her palm against my belly. "Very strong."
Relief washed through .
"And a wolf," she added.
Joy blood.
Then faded just as quickly.
I smiled anyway. "Thank you."
She smiled back, but her eyes fell.
"Do you have children?" I asked gently.
She hesitated.
"A son."
My chest ward. "Is he well?"
Her smile faltered.
"He will be fifteen soon."
The words felt heavy before I even understood why.
"And...?" I prompted.
"He will be drafted."
The word settled cold in my bones.
"To fight?" I asked.
She nodded once.
"Fight what?" I asked lost.
"The rebels." She said and I rose a brow in disbelief as I looked up at her.
"Rebels? What rebels?" I asked her.
I was lost but she didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about it.
"He’s just a boy," I whispered changing the subject I could tell she wasn’t comfortable with.
Her hands stilled.
"That doesn’t stop the law," she said quietly.
My arms wrapped protectively around my belly.
"Do they survive?" I asked.
Silence.
Long.
Unforgiving.
Finally, she spoke.
"So."
The answer hurt worse than a no.
As she resud her work, her touch careful and loving, a thought took root inside .
This place was beautiful.
Balanced.
Alive.
But even here...
Power demanded blood.
And as my son shifted inside , strong and insistent, I realized sothing with terrifying clarity:
Whatever was coming
Whatever my wolf was being protected from and it wasn’t just about .
It was about him too.
My arms went around my tummy protectively.
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