Page 26

Seren

The morning air was crisp, cool against Seren's skin as she followed Tyrio through the schoolyard.

She had learned his name yesterday, but the warrior remained as silent and unreadable as ever. He walked with the ease of a predator, every step deliberate, his presence unquestionable.

The training grounds were already filled with students, their breath misting in the air as they went through their morning warm-ups.

Seren's palms were sweaty.

She could feel the weight of eyes on her—some curious, some openly hostile.

Tyrio glanced at Enforcer Garrik, the head trainer, and a silent exchange passed between them through the tribelink.

"You're sure about this?" Garrik's thoughts were sceptical.

"The Highclaw ordered it. She trains." Tyrio's response was firm.

Garrik's gaze flickered to Seren, assessing.

"Let's see what she can do."

Seren swallowed hard.

She had trained before, but this was different.

This wasn't her home. This wasn't Rheon teaching her under the warm sun.

This was their territory. Their rules.

"Join the warm-ups," Garrik ordered.

Seren nodded, stepping onto the field .

The others were already moving—running laps, stretching, jumping to loosen their limbs.

Her muscles protested at first, stiff from days of inactivity, but she forced herself forward, focusing on the rhythm of her breath.

Run.

Jump.

Stretch.

Breathe.

Little by little, her lithe body remembered.

She fell into pace, her steps evening out, her arms and legs moving in sync.

She was keeping up.

But no one spoke to her.

Not outright.

They only watched—whispered.

Garrik observed for a while before finally stepping forward.

"Pair off for sparring."

Seren's palms were sweating, but she kept her face blank.

Garrik's gaze flickered over her, thoughtful. Then he motioned to a younger wolf—a boy smaller than her, but fast and strong.

"You. With her."

The pup grinned, confident .

Seren stepped onto the mat, rolling her shoulders.

She already knew what the others were thinking.

She wasn't one of them.

She didn't belong here.

She was weaker.

They would soon find out the truth.

The moment the fight began, the pup lunged.

He was fast—wolves were always fast—but Seren had trained with Rheon. She had spent hours learning the flow of combat, the angles, the weaknesses.

The moment he came at her, she sidestepped, ducking under his outstretched arm.

He growled, moving in again—stronger this time.

Seren waited.

Then, in one fluid motion, she pivoted, swept his legs from beneath him, and twisted his arm behind his back.

The pup yelped in shock; his body locked in a tight submission hold.

The yard fell silent.

Seren let him go and stepped back, her breath steady.

She turned—and felt eyes on her. Her chest felt like there was a spark there. The fine hairs on her forearm stood on end.

Hagan watching her.

Or rather, trying not to watch her.

He wasn't sparring. He was off to the side, his arms crossed, expression unreadable. But Seren knew he was paying attention .

Even if he didn't want to.

Even if he was avoiding looking directly at her, his gaze kept flicking back to her long plait as it swayed down her back.

He tried not to care.

He wasn't involved, not really.

But he knew what was happening to her.

Locked in the bathroom.

Someone shifting into wolf form and peeing on her backpack.

Her homework going missing.

None of it was his doing.

But he didn't stop it, either.

And that gnawed at him.

Instead of dealing with it, he clung to Lia, stuck close to her side, and let her words drown out the uneasy guilt that curled in his chest.

But no matter what he did—

His attention kept drifting back to her.

To Seren.

Seren exhaled, rolling her shoulders.

She had won this round.

But that didn't mean they would accept her.

Garrik called for the next match.

"You, with her."

Seren turned, somehow expecting to face Lia, but Garrik's gaze wasn't on her—it was on another girl.

Clio .

Seren didn't know much about her, but she could see the difference immediately.

Taller. Stronger.

A girl who had trained her whole life.

A girl who would make an example of her.

The bigger girl rolled her shoulders, cracking her knuckles, a smirk pulling at her lips.

Seren exhaled, stepping forward, ready.

The moment Garrik gave the signal, Clio moved.

She was fast, but Seren had already learned how wolves were taught to attack.

Seren ducked, sidestepping the first lunge, but Clio was already pivoting, swinging back with an elbow to Seren's ribs.

Seren gritted her teeth from the pain.

This was different.

The first pup had underestimated her.

Clio wouldn't.

Seren had barely steadied her footing before Clio came at her again, this time sweeping her leg out—but Seren jumped back just in time, landing lightly on the balls of her feet.

For a moment, there was a pause.

The others had stopped whispering.

Now, they were watching.

Hagan was watching. She would show him. She would show them all .

Seren shifted her stance, reading Clio's movements, watching the way she favoured her right leg, the way her weight shifted slightly before each attack.

When Clio lunged again, Seren moved first.

She twisted low, ducking under the blow, grabbing Clio's wrist and using her own weight to throw her momentum against her.

The thud of Clio hitting the ground sent a ripple through the students.

Seren tightened her grip. Pinned.

Clio struggled, but it was too late.

Then someone in the crowd whispered

"Witch"

And the whispers started through the tribelink.

"She's using a spell."

"No wonder."

"Show-off."

Hagan didn't want to watch.

But he kept watching anyway.

It wasn't just the fight.

It was the way the others reacted.

The way Lia's lips curled in annoyance.

The way Dain muttered under his breath.

The way the whispers grew like wildfire, shifting from grudging respect to something uglier .

"She doesn't belong here."

"She's cheating."

Hagan clenched his jaw.

He didn't participate.

But he didn't stop it either.

And the guilt twisted inside him like a blade.

He stuck closer to Lia, trying to block it out.

But his eyes kept getting drawn back—

To Seren.

To the way, her long plait swung behind her as she stepped off the mat.

To the way, she did not shy from meeting anyone's gaze, like a warrior princess.

He felt that hit on her ribs. He wanted to rush forward and pull Clio off her. But he didn't. And he didn't say a word when they called her a witch.

They hated her.

And yet, she was still here.

Still fighting looking them in the eye in an open challenge. Like only a born Lunara could.