Page 13 of Snarl First, Kiss Later (Alpha’s Prophecy #2)

THIRTEEN

AVA

A va trudged into the courtyard at dawn, the sky pale and promising.

Sonya was already there, rolling up her sleeves skinny but strong, her white-blond hair caught in a loose braid at her nape—pregnant belly obvious, yet her posture was proud, unwavering.

The childrens’ laughter drifted from inside the training hall, reminding Ava this place wasn’t just politics and power—it was life pushing forward.

“Morning,” Sonya greeted, voice warm and easy as she extended a hand. Ava tried not to wince at the stretch of distance still between them.

“Morning.” The words felt flat, but hope lay in the curve of Sonya’s smile.

They moved to the soft grass near a low-walled platform marked with targets and padded dummies. Ava peeled off her threadbare leather jacket, arms flexing from years in the wilds. Each breath reminded her she didn’t belong here.

“You stick with me today,” Sonya said, winking. “I figured if you are going to remain here, might as well make it productive. Let’s start with basics, body positioning, using gravity.”

Ava nodded, dropping into the stance Sonya showed her: feet shoulder-width, knees soft, core engaged. Sonya circled, adjusting Ava’s hips, lifting her elbow just so. Ava followed, flawed but determined.

“Good,” Sonya murmured, flesh-toned gloves flashing as she guided Ava’s arms. “You lean in—push past instinct hovering.”

That resonated. Instinct hovered near every step Ava made in this world.

They practiced strike and block in silence, broken only by Sonya’s quiet cues—“steady,” “strong,” “eyes on it.” All the while, Ava observed Sonya’s ease, confidence despite pregnancy.

Her white-blond hair caught light, framing her face like a halo, and Ava realized just how human this powerful wolf-queen still was.

They took breaks: Sonya fetched water from a stone basin while Ava wiped sweat from her brow. Sonya’s pale skin glowed, and despite exhaustion, she met Ava’s gaze with understanding.

“You’ve got grit,” Sonya said softly. “I remember when Silas first showed his steel.”

Ava stiffened. Silas—he’d guarded secrets even Sonya couldn’t unravel. For a moment she had forgotten that him and Sonya were once from the same pack.

“I can’t train like him,” Ava said.

“No one expects you to be him.” Sonya met her eyes. “He was… different. Disciplined to a fault, loyal to Roman long past reason. That scar on his back? It came from when Roman humiliated him in front of his own blood.”

“He never told me.”

“I don’t blame him.” Sonya leaned forward. “He didn’t know his words wouldn’t kill you.” She winked. “Mostly.”

Ava laughed, tension slipping. A shared joke cemented bonds in unpredictable worlds.

Sonya rose gracefully, massaging her lower back. “Alright, Ava Monroe… how about we spar?”

Ava’s pulse stuttered. Spar? With the Luna Queen? But Sonya offered no dismissal. She drew Ava in, palms up, eyes daring.

They moved slowly, measured. Sonya attacked, Ava parried. Sonya struck again, faster, Ava absorbed and returned something clumsy but real. Around them, court lingered on the hall’s threshold, eyes watching. But Ava fixed on Sonya’s stormy green gaze, on the queen’s steady form.

Suddenly Sonya caught her shoulder and gently spun her—soft, leading her into a silent dance. Ava landed a light tap on Sonya’s side and froze—too light? Sonya barked a laugh and patted Ava’s arm fondly.

“Ava, you’ve got rhythm.” She tucked a hair strand behind her ear. “We’ll build that.”

Ava exhaled, any doubt cracking.

After drills, Sonya sent Ava to a bench where the Luna Queen brought water and a stretch-band.

“You’ve got heart.” Sonya sat beside her, pregnant belly even more evident. “More than a few born-blood wolves I’ve met.”

Ava accepted the water, chest aching with empathy and fear. “I want to help, like, really help. If you’d let me. The guys, wolves, whatever that are involved in this, they attacked people I know and work with as well. They are targeting my home.”

Sonya sighed. “That convoy attack… that trail you cleared… saved lives. You’ve already done more than most pack-born.”

Ava looked away, vulnerability on display. “I don’t know your world.”

Sonya’s gaze was soft. “Then learn it. You’ve learned more about trust in a week than some wolves do in a lifetime.”

They lapsed together, watching court guards jog past, court master's whispering. Then Sonya turned serious.

“Silas… he’s not just a warrior.” She paused as Ava stiffened at his name. Acknowledged wariness passed between them. “Under Roman, he obeyed. But he saved lives afterward—many. When Landon asked… he carried wounded from the battlefield when no one else would.”

Ava could feel Sonya watching her for a reaction, but she didn’t know what to say.

“Some guilt never finds voice,” Sonya said. “He carries his scars alone, so he doesn’t put them on others.”

Ava swallowed. The bond between Sonya and Silas, rooted in shared pain, woke fierce protectiveness.

“Remember that.” Sonya laid a hand on Ava’s. The warmth sparked something genuine, familial. “You belong here too. You see beneath silent armor. That’s rare.”

Ava gave a shaky smile back, the first shred of ease in days.

They resumed training with Sonya leading gentle breath-work and focus drills under the court’s ancient oaks.

Between repetitions, Sonya shared snapshots of her youth under Roman’s rule of burdens cloaked in power, broken loyalties, Silas slamming a door after Roman’s command.

But not cruel, more like honor locked behind regret.

Court guards came and went, respect murmuring as Ava’s stance improved, as Sonya’s presence cemented it.

By midday heat, they collapsed side by side on the grass, laughing at a trick Ava pulled with the stretch band. The morning’s tension eased into something soft and real.

Sonya patted Ava’s thigh. “You’ve chosen your path.” The words were firm, proud. “You’ve already earned my trust.”

Ava stared ahead, heart pounding. Did she deserve it?

“You don’t have to decide about pack or court now,” Sonya said. “But you’re part of this now Ava. Don’t forget it.”

A crack of distant thunder rolled across the sky.

Sonya glanced past her shoulder. “Learn what you feel—about being here. And about him.”

Ava closed her eyes, letting the queen’s words settle. About him. Silas. Bond of purpose, of protection. The unspoken thread between them.

They rose, helping each other up. Ava brushed grass from her pants, Sonya adjusted her gloves. They walked to the hall’s entrance together, shoulder to shoulder. Ava’s world had shifted. It became bigger, stranger, richer.

And Ava? She wasn’t a soldier or a queen. She was human, but she was here. And Sonya believed in her.

Which meant maybe she could believe in herself.