Chapter Four: The Alpha’s Trial

Aria woke before dawn, her body aching from the relentless training. She had grown accustomed to the pain, finding a strange sense of accomplishment in it. Each ache was proof that she was pushing herself, that she was growing stronger.

Today, however, was different. Darius had told her the night before that she would be training under direct observation—by Isaac himself.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She had seen glimpses of Isaac in training, his movements precise and deadly. He was a force of nature, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face him.

But she had no choice.

After a quick wash and a change into her training clothes, Aria made her way to the grounds. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, the air crisp with the promise of a new day.

Isaac was already there, standing near the sparring ring. He wore a simple black shirt and pants, but his presence was anything but ordinary. His silver eyes locked onto hers as she approached, and she felt the weight of his gaze.

“Punctual,” he remarked, his tone neutral. “That’s a start.”

Aria swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding silently.

“Darius has told me about your progress,” Isaac continued, stepping into the ring. “Today, I’ll see for myself.”

Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to step into the ring. The ground beneath her feet was packed dirt, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and determination.

“Attack me,” Isaac ordered, his stance relaxed but ready.

Aria blinked, unsure if she had heard correctly. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice laced with impatience. “Attack me.”

She hesitated, her mind racing. Isaac was a seasoned Alpha, a warrior who had likely faced countless battles. She was just… her. Weak, inexperienced, and barely able to hold her own in training.

But the challenge in his eyes ignited something within her.

Without another word, she lunged forward, aiming for his midsection. Isaac sidestepped easily, his movements fluid and controlled.

“Again,” he said, his voice calm.

Aria gritted her teeth, adjusting her stance before trying again. This time, she aimed for his shoulder, putting all her strength into the strike.

Isaac caught her wrist mid-air, his grip firm but not painful. “Your movements are predictable,” he said, releasing her. “You’re relying on brute force, but you lack strategy.”

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she nodded, absorbing his critique.

For the next hour, Isaac put her through a series of drills, testing her speed, strength, and endurance. He didn’t go easy on her, his sharp words cutting deeper than any physical blow.

“Faster.”

“Focus.”

“Is that all you’ve got?”

By the end of the session, Aria was drenched in sweat, her body screaming for rest. But she refused to give up, meeting each of his challenges head-on.

When he finally called for a break, she collapsed onto the ground, her chest heaving. Isaac stood over her, his expression unreadable.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he admitted, his tone grudging. “But strength alone won’t save you in a fight. You need to think, to anticipate your opponent’s moves.”

Aria looked up at him, her breath hitching. Was that… praise?

“Rest,” he said, turning to leave. “You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

The days turned into weeks, and Aria’s training intensified. Isaac’s presence was both a blessing and a curse—he pushed her to her limits, but he also forced her to confront her weaknesses.

Under his watchful eye, she began to improve. Her movements became sharper, her reflexes quicker. She learned to read her opponents, to predict their moves before they made them.

The other warriors started to notice, their skepticism giving way to grudging respect.

“She’s holding her own,” one of them remarked during a sparring match.

“She’s got guts, I’ll give her that,” another agreed.

The whispers of doubt that had once followed her everywhere began to fade.

One evening, after an especially grueling training session, Aria found herself wandering the pack grounds. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the landscape.

She stopped near the edge of the forest, her gaze drawn to the towering trees. The scent of pine and earth filled her senses, stirring something deep within her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

She turned to see Jamie, the sandy-haired warrior she had met in the kitchen weeks ago. He was leaning against a tree, his usual grin in place.

Aria nodded. “It is.”

Jamie stepped closer, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “You’ve been working hard,” he said. “The others have noticed.”

“Have they?” she asked, her tone skeptical.

He chuckled. “You’re not invisible anymore, Aria. You’re proving yourself, little by little.”

His words warmed her, but she wasn’t sure she believed them. “Isaac doesn’t seem to think so,” she muttered.

Jamie’s grin widened. “Ah, the Alpha. He’s not an easy man to impress, but trust me, he’s noticed.”

Aria looked away, her thoughts swirling. She didn’t know what to make of Isaac—his cold demeanor, his sharp words, the way he seemed to expect so much from her.

“You’ll figure him out,” Jamie said, as if reading her mind. “Just give it time.”

That night, as Aria lay in bed, she thought about Jamie’s words. Was she really starting to make a place for herself in the pack?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock at her door.

“Aria,” came Darius’s voice. “You’re needed in the main hall.”

She rose quickly, her heart pounding. What now?

When she arrived in the hall, she found Isaac waiting for her, his expression grim.

“We have a situation,” he said without preamble.

Aria’s stomach twisted. “What kind of situation?”

“Rogues,” he replied, his tone clipped. “They’ve been spotted near the southern border. We’re sending a patrol, and you’re coming with us.”

Her eyes widened. “Me? But—”

“You’ve trained for this,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing. “Now it’s time to prove yourself.”

Aria swallowed hard, her mind racing. This was it—the moment she had been preparing for. She couldn’t back down now.

“I’m ready,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her.

Isaac nodded, a faint hint of approval flickering in his eyes. “Good. We leave in an hour.”

The patrol moved swiftly through the forest, their footsteps silent on the moss-covered ground. Aria stayed close to Isaac, her senses on high alert.

The air was thick with tension, the scent of rogues lingering like a warning.

When the attack came, it was sudden and brutal. Shadows burst from the trees, snarling and snapping. The pack warriors shifted seamlessly into their wolf forms, their growls echoing through the night.

Aria’s heart raced as she dodged a rogue’s claws, her training kicking in. She grabbed a fallen branch, using it as a makeshift weapon to fend off her attacker.

Isaac was a whirlwind of fury, his wolf form a blur of silver and gray as he tore through the rogues. His power was breathtaking, a reminder of why he was the Alpha.

As the battle raged on, Aria found herself cornered by two rogues. Her breath hitched, fear threatening to paralyze her. But then she remembered Isaac’s words: Think. Anticipate.

She feinted to the left, drawing one rogue off balance, before spinning and striking the other with the branch. The first rogue lunged, but she sidestepped, using its momentum against it.

When the dust settled, the rogues were defeated, their bodies scattered across the forest floor.

Isaac shifted back into his human form, his silver eyes meeting hers.

“You fought well,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Aria’s chest swelled with pride, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. She had survived.

And for the first time, she felt like she truly belonged.

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