Chapter 3 CHAPTER 3

By the afternoon, Talia had almost convinced herself she was fine. Training with Vael had helped; there was something deeply therapeutic about swinging a wooden sword at someone who could take it, and lunch had been tolerable, mostly because Kaelan had launched into a passionate, borderline theatrical rant about the pack’s new patrol schedule. Ana had been too busy laughing to interrogate Talia’s emotional state. Thankfully.

But now lunch was over. Vael had vanished to help with border checks, Elara and Kaelan were locked in a meeting with the senior pack members, and Talia was standing outside Ana’s office, staring at the closed door like it was the entrance to a cave that definitely housed a dragon… A very talkative dragon. She often wondered what would be more painful, the talking part or being set on fire.

She knocked anyway, because she was brave… Or stupid, or both.

“Come in,” Ana called, her voice warm and far too cheerful for someone who specialised in peeling people open like emotional fruit.

Talia pushed the door open and stepped inside. Ana’s office was exactly as it always was. There was soft lighting, shelves full of books, a plush sofa that looked deceptively comfortable, and a small table with a bowl of sweets that Ana claimed were for ‘comfort’, though Talia suspected they were actually bribes.

Ana smiled when she saw her. “Afternoon, Talia. How are you feeling after training?”

“Alive,” Talia said, dropping onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh. “Which is more than I can say for the wooden sword Vael murdered.”

Ana chuckled. “He said you did well.”

“He lies to spare my feelings.”

“He said you nearly disarmed him.”

Talia shrugged. “He lies creatively.”

Ana sat across from her, notebook in hand. “I’m glad you trained. Physical exercise is good for you.”

“Because I'm human,” Talia muttered.

Ana raised an eyebrow, so Talia quickly diverted the conversation. “It was better than any emotional homework.”

Ana’s eyes narrowed slightly. Talia knew she wouldn’t forget about the first comment; she never did. “Speaking of homework… how did the writing go last night?”

Talia groaned and flopped sideways on the sofa, one arm thrown dramatically over her eyes. “Like I said this morning, I wrote, I processed, I traumatised the paper. It was a whole journey.”

“And how did it make you feel?”

“Hungry.”

“Talia.”

Talia took a peek at Ana, and she wore that look that said she was serious and wanted the truth. “Fine. It made me feel… things.”

“What kind of things?”

“The emotional kind.”

Ana waited patiently for her to continue, which always annoyed Talia. Did she not have others to speak to? Obviously not, because she was the only damaged one in the pack.

Talia sighed. “The annoying kind.”

Ana’s smile softened. “You don’t have to be specific if you’re not ready.”

“I’m never ready,” Talia admitted.

“That’s alright,” Ana said gently. “We can take it slow.”

Talia sat up, crossing her arms. “Ana, I appreciate the effort, but I’m not exactly a deep well of emotional insight. I’m more like a puddle, a shallow one on a hot day.”

Ana’s eyes warmed with affection. “You’re more than you think.”

“Please don’t say that,” Talia said quickly. “It sounds like the beginning of a motivational speech, and I’m allergic.”

Ana laughed softly. “Alright. No speeches. Let’s just talk.”

They did. Or rather, Ana talked, and Talia deflected with sarcasm, half‑truths, and the occasional genuine admission that slipped out before she could stop it. Ana had a way of making silence feel safe, which was deeply inconvenient. Talia found herself saying more than she meant to, not much, but enough to feel exposed.

Eventually, Ana closed her notebook. “You did well today.”

“I did nothing.”

“You showed up,” Ana said. “That’s something.”

Talia rolled her eyes, but a small part of her, the part she tried very hard to ignore, felt lighter. Showing up shouldn’t count as progress, but apparently it did. Not that she would admit it, especially when it didn’t matter how many sessions she had, or how much lighter she felt after, the truth was always the same… she didn’t belong here anymore.

“Same time tomorrow?” Ana asked.

“Sure,” Talia said. “If I’m not crushed under the weight of my own emotional baggage.”

Ana smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Talia escaped the office before Ana could say anything else encouraging. She stepped outside into the late afternoon light, breathing in the crisp air. The forest stretched out around the Blackwood compound, tall trees swaying gently in the breeze. Wolves moved through the trees in the distance, their presence familiar and comforting. She found she was always hyperaware of the wolves in the pack, and she didn’t need to wonder why.

She walked toward the training clearing again, needing movement, needing space. The clearing was empty now, the ground still scuffed from her earlier sparring with Vael. She picked up one of the wooden swords left leaning against a tree and twirled it absently, letting the weight settle into her palm.

She wasn’t a wolf anymore, which meant she wasn’t strong, she wasn’t fast, but she could fight. Vael had made sure of that. He’d refused to let her be helpless, refused to let her believe she was fragile. He’d taught her to use her size, her speed, her stubbornness, all the things she had left.

She swung the sword again, letting the motion calm her thoughts. The repetitive movement soothed her and calmed the turmoil she always felt after facing Ana.

Partway through a swing, she felt something; it was like a shift in the air, and a ripple of wrongness crawled across her skin, leaving a prickle at the back of her neck, making the hairs on her arms stand.

She lowered the sword slowly, listening. The forest had gone still… too still. The birds had stopped singing, and the distant patrol calls had fallen silent. She didn’t like this; it was obvious that something was wrong. She didn’t need a wolf to pick on it.

Talia’s heartbeat quickened. “Vael?” she called softly, though she knew he wasn’t nearby. And as expected, there was no answer.

Then a branch snapped deep in the woods.

Talia’s grip tightened on the sword. “Hello?” she tried again.

Still nothing. The silence deepened, and the air felt colder. Then, from somewhere far off, too far to see, too close to ignore, a sound tore through the quiet.

A howl.

Not a patrol call, not a greeting, and not from anyone within the pack. Talia’s blood ran cold as another sound followed, this time a growl, it was low and guttural, vibrating through the trees. It rolled through the forest, deep and resonant, shaking the air around her.

She took a step back, then another. She knew deep down she needed to run, but it was like her legs were rooted to the ground.

Then something moved in the shadows. It was fast, quiet and threatening.

Talia’s breath caught in her throat as she realised whatever was out there… was already here.

And then the growl came again, closer this time… Much closer.

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