Olivia's Point of View
The days blurred into each other like a faded watercolor painting. One moment I was still trying to make sense of my new life in the pack house, and the next, I found myself reluctantly falling into a routine. I wasn't sure if it was survival instinct or something more dangerous—like acceptance.
The whispers around me hadn't died. If anything, they grew louder. The stares from the other pack members held more weight now. Some looked at me with sympathy, others with curiosity, and a few with outright resentment. I didn't belong here, and they knew it.
"Human or wolf, she's still an outsider."
"She's his mate, whether we like it or not."
I heard them all. Every whisper felt like a slap.
Jaden hadn't spoken to me since our heated exchange. He avoided me entirely—vanishing early and returning late. And when I did catch glimpses of him, his face was unreadable, guarded, like a man wearing a permanent mask.
One morning, Eva walked into my room holding a pile of clothes. "Training starts today," she said simply.
"Training?" I asked. "What kind of training?"
"Combat. Shifting control. Learning the hierarchy. Everything you need to survive here."
I blinked. "I didn't agree to this."
She smirked. "You're part of this pack now. That means learning how to defend yourself. Especially with the rogues lurking around."
The mention of rogues made me stiffen.
I followed her to the open training field where several pack members—both male and female—were already practicing. Some were sparring in human form, others shifting into wolves mid-fight with impressive control.
It was chaos, but organized chaos.
"New recruit?" a tall woman with striking red hair asked, eyeing me with mild interest.
"She's not a recruit. She's the Alpha's mate," someone muttered from behind.
The redhead raised a brow. "Oh, so she's that girl."
I clenched my jaw.
Jaden appeared on the far side of the field, shirtless and barefoot, his body taut with muscle and purpose. He was demonstrating a grappling technique, moving effortlessly with a warrior's grace. His power was undeniable.
Eva nudged me. "You'll be training under him."
I stared. "What?"
"He insisted."
Great. Just what I needed—more awkwardness.
As I approached, Jaden finally looked at me. His eyes were unreadable, but I sensed a storm beneath them.
"Pair up," he said, his voice crisp. "Let's see what you've got."
I stepped into the ring with a younger man, maybe eighteen. He looked cocky, like he had something to prove. Within seconds, I was flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me.
"Again," Jaden barked.
We repeated the drill over and over. I fell more times than I could count. My palms were scraped, my knees bruised, but I got up every time.
On the tenth try, I finally managed to throw my opponent off balance. He stumbled back, surprised.
A small smirk touched Jaden's lips. "Better."
I wiped sweat from my brow. "Glad to impress you."
"You didn't," he replied, though his tone wasn't cruel.
The rest of the session passed in a blur of exhaustion. When it ended, I collapsed onto the grass, breathing heavily.
Jaden sat beside me, his voice quieter now. "You have fire. That's good."
"I have anger," I corrected. "Not fire."
"Same thing," he said. "If you know how to use it."
We sat in silence for a moment, the tension between us shifting—less sharp, more… tentative.
"I don't want to be part of your war," I said finally.
He looked at me, his expression unreadable. "It's already found you, Olivia. You don't get to sit this one out."
A breeze swept over us, carrying the scent of pine and something darker—blood. Jaden's head snapped up. His eyes narrowed.
"Stay here," he ordered.
Before I could respond, he shifted into his wolf form—black as night, massive and powerful—and charged into the woods.
Panic seized me.
I should've stayed put. I should've listened. But something deep inside me—something primal—pulled me forward. My legs moved on their own, driven by instinct.
I reached the edge of the forest just in time to see Jaden locked in a brutal fight with another wolf—a rogue, lean and savage, its eyes crazed.
Blood splattered across the leaves.
Jaden roared, launching himself at the rogue. The fight was vicious, teeth tearing, claws slashing. I could do nothing but watch, frozen.
And then it happened.
The rogue turned its eyes on me.
Time slowed.
It lunged—
Jaden moved faster. With one final, brutal snap of his jaws, he tore into the rogue's throat, ending the fight in a heartbeat.
The rogue collapsed, lifeless.
Jaden shifted back, panting, blood dripping from his side.
I ran to him without thinking. "You're hurt."
"I've had worse," he said, brushing it off.
But as I helped him up, our eyes met. And in that moment, something shifted between us.
Not hatred. Not resistance.
Something dangerously close to… understanding.
Or worse—connection.
I sat in the silence of the room long after Jaden left, his scent lingering in the air—woodsy, wild, and confusingly comforting. My thoughts raced, emotions tangled into knots I couldn't untie. Everything about this place felt foreign, but the strangest thing was how a part of me didn't want to run anymore.
What was happening to me?
A soft knock broke the silence. I tensed, expecting Jaden again. But when the door opened, it was Maya.
She stepped in quietly, holding a tray with warm soup and bread. "He told me you hadn't eaten all day."
I hesitated, but hunger gnawed at me. As I reached for the bowl, our fingers brushed.
"I know this is hard," Maya said gently, taking a seat across from me. "But you're not our prisoner, Olivia. You're one of us now—whether you believe it or not."
I stared at her, a hundred questions on my tongue. "Why me? Why did this happen to me?"
Maya gave a small, almost sad smile. "Because fate doesn't ask permission. It just... chooses."
That answer didn't satisfy me—but it rang true.
Before I could press her further, we both stiffened. A howl tore through the stillness outside. Not just any howl—it was guttural, pained, and close. Maya's eyes widened.
"That's from the border," she said, standing abruptly. "Something's wrong."
My heart thudded. "Is it an attack?"
"We don't know yet."
She rushed to the door, but paused and glanced back. "Stay here. It might not be safe."
But as she vanished down the hall, my instincts screamed otherwise. I had a terrible feeling in my gut—like whatever was happening outside... was about me.