The First Spark

Training started at dawn.

Kael woke me with his hand on my shoulder. Gentle. Not shaking. Just a quiet pressure that pulled me out of a dream I couldn't remember.

"Up," he said.

I blinked against the grey light coming through the window. "What time is it?"

"Time to learn."

I groaned and rolled out of bed. My body ached from yesterday. The parley. The tension. The sleepless night spent with my head on Kael's chest.

Kael handed me a pile of clothes. Black. Fitted. Leather pants I'd never worn before. A thick grey shirt. Boots with good grip.

"Where did you get these?"

"I had Vera find them. You can't train in a dress."

I looked at the clothes. Then at him. "Turn around."

He turned.

I changed quickly. The leather was soft. Broken in. It fit perfectly — like it had been made for me.

"Vera has good taste," I said.

"I'll tell her you said that."

"You can turn around now."

Kael turned. His eyes ran over me. Slow. Appreciative. He didn't say anything for a long moment. Just looked.

"What?" I said.

"You look different."

"Good different or bad different?"

He stepped closer. His hand touched my chin. Lifted my face.

"I'll tell you later," he said. "Let's go."

The training yard was empty except for Elias and Vera.

Wooden dummies stood in a row. Weapon racks lined the far wall. A circle had been marked in the dirt with white chalk.

Vera handed me a wooden knife. The same one from yesterday. The handle was already worn smooth from my grip.

"You remember how to hold it?" Vera asked.

"I remember."

"Show me."

I held the knife. My grip was tight. My arm was steady. My feet were shoulder-width apart, just like Kael had shown me.

"Good," Vera said. "Now hit me."

"What?"

"You heard me. Hit me."

Vera held up her own wooden knife. Her stance was wide. Her eyes were focused. She looked like she'd been born with a blade in her hand.

I swung.

She blocked. The wood clacked against wood.

"Again."

I swung again. Harder. She blocked again. Easier this time. Like swatting a fly.

"Again."

I swung a third time. She caught my wrist, twisted, and the knife fell from my hand. It hit the dirt with a soft thud.

"Dead," Vera said.

"That's not fair. You've been doing this for years."

"Marcus won't care what's fair. He'll just kill you."

Vera picked up my knife. Handed it back to me. Handle first.

"Again," she said.

We trained for an hour.

By the end, my arms were shaking. My palms were blistered. My legs felt like they belonged to someone else. Sweat dripped down my back despite the cold.

But I could hold the knife without dropping it.

I could swing without flinching.

And once — just once — I almost hit her.

"Better," Vera said. She was barely breathing hard. I was gasping.

"I almost got you."

"You almost got air."

"That's not nothing."

Vera almost smiled. "It's something. We'll work on it tomorrow."

She walked to the water bucket, drank, then poured the rest over her head. Water dripped down her face, her neck, her shirt.

"You're not as weak as I thought," she said.

"Thanks?"

"It wasn't a compliment. It was an observation."

She walked away.

Elias stepped into the circle.

"Now me," he said.

"No," I said. "I need a break."

"Marcus won't give you a break."

"Marcus isn't here."

"He will be."

Elias held up his hands. No weapons. Just palms. His grey eyes were patient but firm.

"Hand-to-hand," he said. "No knives. Just you and me."

"Fine."

I stepped toward him.

He moved faster than I expected. His hand caught my wrist. His foot swept my legs. I hit the ground hard. The air left my lungs in a whoosh.

"Dead," Elias said.

"That was three seconds."

"I'm old. You should have lasted longer."

He held out his hand. Helped me up.

"Again," he said.

Kael watched from the porch.

He didn't interfere. Didn't coach. Didn't call out instructions. Just watched. His arms were crossed over his chest. His face was unreadable.

After two hours, he walked down the stairs.

"Enough," he said.

Elias stepped back. Vera lowered her knife. The other wolves who had gathered to watch dispersed.

Kael stood in front of me. His hand touched my chin. Lifted my face.

"You're bleeding," he said.

"I am?"

He wiped the blood from my lip. A cut I didn't remember getting. His thumb was rough against my skin.

"You didn't feel it?"

"I was too busy trying not to die."

Kael almost smiled. "You did well."

"I hit Vera once. Almost."

"Almost doesn't count in a fight."

"I know. But it's a start."

He nodded. His hand dropped from my face.

"Eat something," he said. "Rest. We train again this afternoon."

"This afternoon?"

"Marcus isn't going to wait. Neither can you."

I ate alone in the kitchen.

Bread. Cheese. Meat from last night's dinner. I was hungrier than I'd been in years. The training had burned through everything I had.

Vera walked in. Sat across from me.

"You held the knife wrong," she said.

"Then why didn't you correct me?"

"Because you need to figure some things out yourself. I can tell you how to hold it a hundred times. Until your body learns, it doesn't matter."

"When will my body learn?"

Vera leaned back. Studied me. "A few weeks. Maybe a month."

"I don't have a month."

"Then you better learn faster."

She stood up. Walked to the door. Stopped.

"Aria," she said.

"Yes?"

"I still don't like you. But I don't want you to die."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Don't get used to it."

She left.

That afternoon, Kael trained me himself.

No Vera. No Elias. Just him and me in the yard.

"Knives are good," he said. "But your body is your best weapon."

"I thought knives were my best weapon."

"Knives can be taken. Your body can't."

He stood in front of me. His feet were shoulder-width apart. His hands were open at his sides.

"Hit me," he said.

"With what?"

"Your hands. Your feet. Your head. Whatever you can."

I swung.

He caught my fist. Held it.

"Too slow," he said.

"I'm trying."

"Try harder."

He let go. Stepped back.

"Again."

I swung again. He caught my wrist, twisted, and I was on the ground. Again.

"Dead," he said.

"That's the fifth time."

"Then stop dying."

He held out his hand. Helped me up.

"Again," he said.

We trained until the sun set.

By the end, I couldn't feel my fingers. My knuckles were raw. My legs were shaking.

But I'd lasted longer. Three seconds became ten. Ten became twenty.

Kael stood in front of me. His chest was heaving. His face was flushed.

"You're learning," he said.

"I'm exhausted."

"Good. That's when the real learning starts."

He walked to me. His hand cupped the back of my neck. His forehead touched mine.

"You felt it today," he said. "The bond. It was stronger."

"I felt it."

"It's going to keep growing. Every time we touch. Every time we fight. Every time we're near each other."

"Is that bad?"

"I don't know yet."

He kissed me. Short. Soft. Tired.

"Let's go inside," he said. "You need to eat. And sleep. And tomorrow, we do it again."

"I don't know if I can."

"You can. You will."

He took my hand. Led me toward the house.

That night, I dreamed of gold.

Not the color. The light. It poured out of my chest, my hands, my eyes. Wolves knelt around me. Not in fear. In reverence.

I woke up gasping.

Kael was beside me. His hand was on my stomach. His eyes were open.

"You were dreaming," he said.

"How do you know?"

"You were glowing."

My blood went cold. "What?"

"Your eyes. They were gold. Just for a second. But I saw it."

I sat up. My hands were shaking.

"It's real," I said. "The bloodline. It's real."

Kael sat up beside me. His hand found mine.

"I know," he said.

"When did you know?"

"The first time you stood up to me. The first time you didn't cry. The first time you looked at me like I wasn't a monster."

"I never looked at you like that."

"Yes, you did. From the beginning."

He pulled me against his chest. His arms wrapped around me.

"We're going to figure this out," he said. "Together."

"What if I can't control it?"

"Then I'll help you."

"What if it destroys me?"

Kael pulled back. Looked at my face. His black eyes were steady.

"It won't," he said. "Because you're the strongest person I know."

"I'm not strong."

"You survived Dane. You survived Marcus. You survived me. That's stronger than anyone I've ever met."

I leaned into him. My head on his shoulder. My hand on his chest.

"Stay with me," I whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere."

We lay back down. His arms stayed around me. His heart beat under my ear.

I closed my eyes.

The gold light waited behind my eyelids.

But I wasn't afraid anymore.