BLOOD MOON DRILLS

The training yard was a living beast. Torches spat fire into the night, throwing molten shadows over walls darkened by centuries of blood and sweat. Wolves in human form moved with the restless prowl of predators itching for the hunt. Metal rang against metal, punctuated by the guttural bark of sergeants driving their soldiers harder.

I kept my shoulders square, my chin high, and my lungs shallow — careful not to breathe too deeply. The suppressant still clung to me like a second skin, but I could feel it thinning under the heat of my racing pulse. If anyone caught the faintest whiff of what I truly was, I’d be dead before the moon reached its zenith.

“Southwood,” a voice growled behind me.

I turned.

Commander Kael was taller than I remembered from the tent — or maybe it was the way the torchlight caught the predator in his stance. Golden eyes locked on mine like the grip of a steel trap. His presence pressed against my senses, his alpha energy brushing my skin until my wolf shrank back, tail tucked, no matter how I fought to keep my posture unbroken.

“You’re with me tonight,” Kael said. Not an invitation. An order.

The other recruits exchanged glances that weren’t entirely friendly. Being singled out by the commander was rarely a reward. Still, I fell in line at his side, my boots striking the packed dirt in perfect unison with his.

We stopped before a rack of practice weapons. Kael’s gaze swept the choices — swords, axes, spears — before his hand closed around a brutal, double‑edged blade that seemed far too heavy for casual training. He tossed it to me.

“Show me.”

I caught the weapon, my arms jolting under its weight. I prayed he hadn’t noticed.

Kael stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. “Strike me.”

My gut tightened. This wasn’t a normal drill — not with the way his eyes narrowed, drinking in every twitch of my body. He wasn’t testing my swordplay. He was hunting the truth.

I lunged. Steel sang through the air — only to crash against his parry with a force that rattled my bones. He flowed around my strike like water, like wind, like something untouchable.

Again.

Our blades clashed. My palms stung. Kael moved with the ease of a predator toying with prey. He didn’t just block my attacks — he redirected them, twisting my balance until my stance faltered.

Again.

By the fourth exchange, my breathing was loud in my ears. Sweat trickled down my temple, my hair sticking to my neck. My wolf yowled inside me, furious at being pushed so far without yielding to its nature.

Kael stepped in close — too close. His sword’s edge hovered just above my throat, but his gaze had dropped lower, to the hollow at the base of my neck where my pulse hammered against skin.

“Your stance is alpha,” he murmured. “Your fight… isn’t.”

The words slid under my armor like a blade, clean and precise.

I forced a smirk I didn’t feel. “You always flirt with your recruits, Commander?”

His eyes sharpened, unreadable, and for one dangerous moment, I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch. But he didn’t step back. He leaned in.

“Flirting would be kinder,” Kael said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “What I’m doing… is stripping you down.”

I swallowed hard. His scent — sharp cedar and something darker — curled into my lungs before I could stop it. My body betrayed me with the smallest hitch in my breath. His gaze caught it. He knew.

Kael stepped away abruptly. “Run the gauntlet.”

The “gauntlet” was infamous even in whispered palace gossip. A circuit of brutal obstacles meant to shred the unworthy: scaling a wall slicked with oil, sprinting under swinging logs, weaving through a forest of pikes while wolves snapped from the shadows.

The first wall bit into my hands, oil burning in the cuts from the ivy thorns I’d taken on my escape. I climbed anyway, shoving pain aside. Every stumble, every slip, I could feel Kael’s eyes on my back, heavy as chains.

I made it to the end with my lungs on fire, my legs trembling, and my scent suppressants all but burned off by the heat flooding my skin. My wolf was clawing at the inside of my ribs now, desperate to breathe free.

When I doubled over, hands braced on my knees, Kael’s shadow fell over me. He crouched so we were eye‑level, golden gaze drilling into mine.

“You want to survive here?” he asked.

“Yes,” I rasped.

“You want to be a soldier?”

“Yes.”

His hand shot out, gripping my jaw, thumb pressing into the corner of my mouth as if testing the strength of my bite. His touch was firm but not cruel. Still, my wolf stilled entirely under the dominance in it.

“Then fight like something with teeth,” Kael said softly. “Or the front lines will eat you alive.”

I held his gaze, my pulse pounding so hard I thought he might feel it through his fingertips. I didn’t flinch.

His mouth curved, faint but dangerous. “Good.”

He released me, straightened, and turned away. “Blood Moon drills at dawn. Don’t be late, Southwood.”

As I watched him walk away, the truth settled in my gut like a stone: Kael didn’t believe my lie — not for a second.

But for reasons I couldn’t yet name… he hadn’t exposed me.

Not yet.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***