Chapter 3 INTO THE STRANGE LAND

Derek pov

The night was heavy with silence, the kind of silence that carried weight, pressing against your chest and making you aware of every sound, every whisper of the wind, every rustle of leaves. We sat outside the massive iron gates of our land, the Ashland, where the shadows seemed to breathe with us, swallowing the moonlight until even the stars hesitated to shine. The fire torches along the walls hissed as the night breeze licked at them, their flames bending low.

It was in that silence that we saw her.

At first, it was nothing but a shape in the distance: a figure moving between shadows, tall, steady, and elegant in her stride. She did not stumble, nor did she move with fear. Most who dared to approach Ashland’s gates trembled long before they reached us, their cowardice exposing them. But this figure… this figure carried herself with a strange calmness that unsettled even the most seasoned of us.

I narrowed my eyes, motioning to the youngest warriors beside me. “Go,” I ordered, my voice low but sharp. They obeyed, moving cautiously into the dark. Their steps echoed against the stone pathway, swords drawn, shoulders tense.

When they reached the figure, they lit the ground torch they carried. The blaze flared, pushing back the shadows, and for the first time, we all saw her.

She was not what we expected.

Silver. That was the first word that came to mind. Her hair flowed like liquid silver, catching the torchlight and scattering it as though the strands themselves held the glow of the moon. She stood proud, her posture unyielding, her eyes gleaming like a predator who had walked willingly into a den of wolves.

We froze. Even I, who had seen countless battles and bloodshed, found myself caught off guard by the sight of her.

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice echoing against the iron gates. My words sliced the silence, the sound of command rolling through the night. “What are you doing here at the gate of Ashland?”

Her response was not loud, not harsh but quiet, steady, and almost chilling.

“I am a friend, not an enemy,” she said.

Her voice carried like smoke, soft yet unshakable, as if she had known the answer long before I asked the question.

Immediately, claws extended, teeth bared. The surrounding warriors bristled, their instinct screaming at them to strike, to shred this bold intruder before she could breathe another word. Ashland was no place for strangers. Strangers came here to die.

“Be calm,” she said, her tone holding no fear.

It was not a plea. It was not begging for her life. It was a command, spoken with boldness that made even my heart hesitate for a single beat. The courage in her tone unsettled us all. She should have been afraid, yet she wasn’t. She stood, silver hair gleaming in the firelight, eyes locking on us, and at that moment, I felt confusion ripple through my men.

What sort of woman walked into Ashland with such defiance?

I tightened my grip on my blade but did not advance. Instead, I sent word to the Alpha King. No stranger, no matter how fearless, entered this land without his sanction. The messenger ran swiftly, and in moments returned with the king’s decree.

“Tell her the requirements,” the message said.

I stepped forward, eyes narrowing, studying her as one studies a riddle that refuses to be solved. “Do you know where you are, girl?” I asked.

She tilted her chin slightly, not flinching.

“This land,” I said slowly, each word cutting like steel, “is not like the kingdoms you may have wandered from. Here, there is no rule. No law. Only blood and strength carve your place. Tyranny is our crown, and loot is our inheritance. We bow to no one. This is the Ashland, the land of wolves and warriors. Step wrong, and this ground will drink your blood before dawn.”

For a moment, the torches crackled, and silence stretched again. I expected her to falter, to tremble, perhaps even to beg. That was how most outsiders reacted. But instead, she drew in a steady breath, her silver hair shifting with the night breeze, and she spoke.

“I am ready for any trial, for any test,” she said, her voice calm, unbroken. “If blood must be spilled, let it be spilled. If strength must be shown, then strength will be seen.”

Her words sent a ripple through us. Murmurs stirred among the warriors. She had not merely accepted the danger; she had embraced it.

I could not hide my own amazement. Who was this girl who did not fear Ashland? Was she a fool, or something far more dangerous?

I sent another message to the Alpha King, my thoughts tangled with both awe and suspicion. His reply came swiftly, like thunder rolling across the mountains.

“Let her prepare,” he commanded. “Her trial begins at dawn.”

I lifted my head, the weight of the king’s decree heavy on my tongue. “The Alpha King has spoken,” I announced. “You will have your trial tomorrow. If you survive, you may stand among us. If you fail…” I let my words trail off, sharp as the edge of my sword, “…then the earth will claim you as its own.”

She did not flinch. She did not plead. She only nodded once, her silver hair gleaming in the firelight, her gaze steady and unyielding.

For the first time in many years, I felt something stir within me, something I had not known since my first battles. Not fear. Not anger. But curiosity.

Who was this woman? And what would become of her when the trial began?

As the torches hissed and the shadows closed back around her, I could not shake the feeling that her arrival was no accident. Ashland has gained a stranger tonight, but perhaps tomorrow, it will gain something far greater.