Chapter Twenty%
The training yard was quiet in the early morning haze, mist curling like smoke around the worn edges of the stone. I stood in the center, boots planted firm, watching them arrive one by one.%
They were not the strongest. Not the most polished or pedigreed. But they came.
Single mothers with determined eyes. Warriors missing limbs but not spirit. Rejected mates who still walked with pride. Orphans who had known nothing but war and still chose hope. They gathered at my silent command, filling the yard with the soft scuff of feet and the hum of something stronger than rage.
Purpose.
Vivienne stood at my right, arms crossed. Garrick stood at my left, silent, regal. But this was not their moment. It was mine.
“I didn’t call you here to beg for loyalty,” I said, voice clear, cutting through the chill. “You’ve already given enough–to packs who abandoned you, to mates who cast you aside, to wars that forgot your names.“Z
No one moved. No one spoke.
I continued, letting my voice rise with each truth. “I know what it means to be forgotten. To be judged for bleeding. I know what it means to carry a child with no one beside you. To lose everything you were promised. And I know the fire that still burns beneath the ruin.”
A woman in the back–tall, scarred across her jaw–nodded. Another, a boy barely older than sixteen, clenched his fists and raised his chin.
“You are not broken,” I said. “You are the storm they didn’t see coming.”
A sound rippled through them. Not quite a cheer. Not yet. But the sharp, shared exhale of those who’d held their breath for too long.
I stepped forward. “This is not a pack. This is something new. An inner circle forged from truth, from fire. We will train, we will fight, and when the time comes, we will rise–not for vengeance, but for something greater.”
Garrick’s eyes gleamed with something between pride and awe.
I moved between the wolves now, letting them see me. Not as a princess or a fallen Luna–but as one of them.
“I will never ask you to bow. But I will ask you to burn. To forge yourselves into something that cannot be ignored.“Z
Someone stepped forward–Tara, a former Nightfang servant who had fled with her child. “What do we call ourselves?” she asked, voice hoarse.
I looked around the circle. Thought of Ayla. Thought of the moonlight that never stopped watching us.
“We are the Stormborn.”
It wasn’t planned. It just felt right.
And this time, they did cheer.}
-0
The next few hours passed in a blur of movement and determination. I watched them partner off, some awkwardly fumbling with wooden swords, others sliding into fighting stances as if their bodies remembered what their minds had forgotten. I moved among them, correcting form, giving pointers, letting my presence settle among them–not as a symbol but as a leader who trained alongside her people.”
Sweat glistened on their brows, dirt stained their hands, but not one of them stopped. I saw pride in the way they pushed themselves. They didn’t need perfection; they needed purpose. And every swing, every stance, every lifted chin told me they’d found it.”
Vivienne called out commands beside me, her voice sharp but encouraging. “Balance, Keela. Good. Now pivot! That’s it!”
The boy from earlier, Dax, stumbled in a parry and fell hard. I moved toward him instinctively, but he was already pushing himself up, wiping blood from his lip.”
“I’m fine,” he grunted.
I offered him a nod. “Get back in. And this time, lead with your left.“}
He gave me a look–grateful, fierce–and lunged back into the fray.}
When the sun began to dip low, casting a golden glow over the yard, I called for a halt. Breathing heavy, they gathered in a circle once again, this time bound not just by pain, but by something fierce and alive.
“This is just the beginning,” I told them. “Tomorrow, it gets harder. You’ll want to quit. Don’t. There’s something waiting for us beyond the horizon, and when it comes, we will not cower. We will not bow.”
They nodded, one by one. Some clutching their sides. Some are barely able to keep standing. But all of them were still there.
Later, as dusk rolled in and the wolves trained until their hands blistered and their muscles shook, I stood with my father on the balcony overlooking the yard.
“You’ve done something here,” he said quietly.
“I just gave them what I never had,” I replied.”
He looked at me then–not as a father, but as an Alpha who saw another rising.”
“You will outshine us all, Selene.”
I didn’t reply. I didn’t need to.
Because in my heart, something new had taken root. Not revenge. Not grief.”
At Twenty
22
11:26 AM
I didn’t reply. I didn’t need to.
Because in my heart, something new had taken root. Not revenge. Not grief.}
Legacy.
And when I returned to the yard, dust clinging to my boots and fire still in my blood, I looked at the warriors who had bled but never bowed.”
“They called me broken,” I said aloud.
The yard quieted.}
I raised my head.”
“Now I will show them what a storm looks like.”
9.17
