Chapter 3 : A Glimpse of the Pack

Aria’s first night in the Shadow Fang pack house passed restlessly. The bed was far better than anything she’d known before, but sleep eluded her. Isaac’s parting words—“Survive”—echoed in her mind like a mantra. The weight of her situation pressed down on her chest, but she was determined to endure.

When dawn arrived, Darius appeared at her door again, his stern face as unreadable as always. “You’ll assist in the main hall today. The Alpha has a meeting with the pack leaders. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Do your job and leave when dismissed.”

Aria only nodded, not trusting her voice.

The main hall was even more intimidating than the rest of the pack house. It was grand, with high ceilings and tall windows that let in streams of golden sunlight. A long, polished table stretched across the center, surrounded by ornate chairs.

“Set the table,” Greta instructed, appearing beside her with a stack of plates. “Don’t break anything, or the Alpha will have your head.”

Aria got to work, carefully placing the plates, cutlery, and glasses. She moved quietly, her hands steady despite the nervous energy coursing through her. She couldn’t afford to mess up, not in front of Isaac and the other pack leaders.

As the pack members began to file in, Aria shrank back into the shadows, keeping her head down. They were an intimidating group, their power evident in the way they carried themselves.

At the head of the table sat Isaac, his piercing silver eyes scanning the room with an authority that silenced all conversations. To his right was Darius, his Beta, whose calm demeanor belied the strength Aria knew he possessed. On Isaac’s left was another man, slightly younger but no less imposing. He had fiery red hair and a sharp gaze that seemed to notice everything.

“That’s Gamma Rylan,” Greta whispered as she passed Aria. “The Alpha’s third in command. Watch out for him—he’s sharp.”

Aria nodded, storing the information away.

The meeting began with a report from Rylan, his voice confident and direct. He spoke of patrols, rogue sightings, and border skirmishes. Aria didn’t understand all the details, but it was clear the Shadow Fang pack was constantly defending its territory.

As the discussion grew more heated, Aria’s attention was drawn to the pack members seated further down the table. They whispered amongst themselves, throwing occasional glances her way.

“Why is she here?” one of them murmured.

“I heard she doesn’t even have a wolf,” another replied, his tone dripping with disdain.

“She won’t last a week.”

Aria’s cheeks burned, but she kept her eyes on the floor, pretending not to hear.

“Enough,” Isaac’s voice cut through the room like a blade, silencing everyone. His gaze flickered to the end of the table, where the whispers had originated. “If you have something to say, say it to me.”

The room fell deathly quiet, the tension palpable. Isaac’s authority was absolute, and no one dared challenge him.

When the meeting finally ended, the pack members filed out, some throwing lingering glances at Aria. She remained in the shadows, waiting for Greta’s instructions.

Isaac stayed behind, seated at the head of the table. He was studying a map spread out before him, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Aria,” he said suddenly, his voice startling her.

She froze, unsure if she had heard correctly.

“Step forward,” he ordered, not looking up from the map.

Her feet moved before her mind caught up. She approached the table cautiously, her heart pounding.

Isaac’s silver eyes met hers, their intensity unnerving. “You heard the whispers, didn’t you?”

She nodded hesitantly.

“And what do you think of them?”

Aria hesitated, searching for the right words. “I… I don’t belong here,” she admitted softly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

His lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “You’re right. You don’t. But you’re here now, and I won’t tolerate weakness in my pack.”

“I’m not weak,” she said, surprising herself with the firmness of her tone.

Isaac raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “We’ll see about that.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on her. “Darius will arrange for you to begin training tomorrow. If you want to survive, you’ll need to prove yourself.”

Aria’s stomach twisted in equal parts fear and determination. She nodded, knowing this was her only chance to change the way the pack saw her.

“Dismissed,” Isaac said, turning his attention back to the map.

The next morning, Aria found herself on the training grounds, her breath visible in the crisp morning air. The area was vast, with sections designated for hand-to-hand combat, weapons training, and agility drills. Warriors moved with precision and grace, their power evident in every strike and movement.

Darius stood at the edge of the field, his arms crossed as he watched her approach.

“You’ll start with the basics,” he said. “You’ll run laps, do push-ups, and learn to defend yourself. Don’t expect anyone to go easy on you.”

Aria nodded, her jaw set in determination. She wasn’t here to make friends or seek pity. She was here to survive.

Her first task was a grueling set of laps around the training grounds. The cold air burned her lungs, and her legs felt like lead after just a few minutes. But she didn’t stop. She pushed herself forward, her mind focused on Isaac’s words: I won’t tolerate weakness.

By the time she finished, her body was trembling with exhaustion. Darius handed her a water bottle, his expression unreadable.

“Not bad for your first day,” he said. “But don’t get cocky. This is just the beginning.”

The rest of the morning was a blur of drills and exercises. Aria’s muscles screamed in protest, but she refused to give up. She mimicked the warriors’ movements as best she could, her determination growing with every mistake she made.

When the session finally ended, Aria collapsed onto the grass, her chest heaving. Darius crouched beside her, his sharp eyes studying her.

“You’ve got a long way to go,” he said. “But there’s potential.”

Aria looked up at him, surprise flickering across her face. It was the closest thing to praise she had received in years.

“Get some rest,” he added. “You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

As the days turned into weeks, Aria’s routine became a grueling cycle of kitchen work and training. The pack continued to treat her with disdain, but she noticed a subtle shift. The whispers became less frequent, and some of the warriors even began nodding at her in acknowledgment.

She was far from being accepted, but she was no longer completely invisible.

Isaac remained a distant figure, his interactions with her brief and formal. Yet, Aria couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching her, silently judging her progress.

One evening, as she returned to her room, she caught sight of him on the training grounds. He was sparring with Darius, his movements a blur of speed and precision. His wolf-like reflexes were mesmerizing, a reminder of the power that lay beneath his cold exterior.

For the first time, Aria felt a spark of something she couldn’t quite name—admiration, perhaps, or the faintest glimmer of hope.

She didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain: she would fight for her place in this pack.

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