EPISODE - 4 Old Wounds and Wolf Whispers

The morning in werewolf territory came without warning.

There was no sunrise, no chirping birds. Just the shift in the temperature, the drop in shadows, and the faint scent of mist curling through enchanted forest air.

Aira stretched carefully on the large bed, blinking sleep from her eyes. Her body still ached in places she didn’t know existed, but the pain had dulled to a low throb. Manageable. Familiar. The kind of pain she was used to—battle scars from growing up with a certain overprotective maniac named Kian Rael.

Speaking of which.

The door creaked open, and there he was—sweat-damp shirt, bare forearms, and a water bottle in hand. Hair wild. Eyes annoyingly alert.

Aira narrowed hers. “Why are you glowing like an overly dramatic protein commercial?”

Kian smirked. “Training. Try it sometime.”

“Oh, I have. Usually when I’m not almost dead.”

“You’re stable now,” he said. “And you’re not going to like what’s coming unless you warm up.”

She blinked. “What is coming?”

Kian tossed a towel onto a chair and leaned against the wall. “My mother’s invited you to breakfast.”

“…With your werewolf queen mother?”

“Technically, yes. But we don’t say ‘queen.’ It makes her feel old.”

“Fair. And terrifying. But fair.”

Kian crossed his arms. “We’ll train first. Loosen you up. Then I’ll take you to meet my parents.”

Aira snorted. “Wow. Didn’t know I’d wake up in a supernatural meet-the-parents situation.”

He grinned. “You already survived the cliff. This’ll be a breeze.”

Training Ground – One Hour Later

The private training field behind the Alpha’s quarters was… intense.

Thick trees lined the edges, and the ground was packed firmly with decades of footwork and claw marks. Wooden dummies stood like statues, and weapons of every kind gleamed from polished racks.

Aira stood in the center of the ring, dressed in simple black training clothes. Kian stood across from her, stretching his arms slowly.

“No claws,” he said. “No teeth. No biting.”

“Aw. You’re taking all the fun out of it.”

“I’m saving that for later,” he said with a wink.

She blushed before she could stop herself. “Focus, wolf boy.”

They circled each other.

She lunged first, feinting low. He dodged with easy grace.

They’d trained like this since they were kids, back when they used to sneak into their families’ private gyms and battle it out over chocolate bars and prank wars.

“Remember the time you tried to poison my protein shake with glitter?” Kian asked as he blocked her strike.

“You mean the time you swapped my shampoo with ketchup?”

“Worth it.”

Aira snorted. “Your hair smelled like fries for weeks.”

Their laughter echoed in the clearing.

But then the mood shifted.

Aira swung faster. Kian parried harder. Their rhythm sharpened. Each strike felt like a dance—the kind only two people who’d grown up side by side could pull off.

Until suddenly, Kian’s hand slipped around her waist mid-dodge, and she lost her footing, crashing into his chest.

“Whoa—”

His arms steadied her.

She looked up. He looked down.

Their breaths hitched.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” he murmured.

“You’ve gotten... cockier,” she whispered.

Kian’s eyes lingered on hers for a moment too long.

Then he stepped back, clearing his throat. “Training’s over.”

“Coward.”

He chuckled. “Come on. My mother’s waiting. And she likes punctuality almost as much as dismembering enemies.”

To be continued ......