By the sixth day, the pack had stopped pretending I was invisible.
That didn't mean they accepted me. It meant they were watching.
I felt it everywhere, eyes tracking my movements as I crossed the clearing, conversations lowering when I passed, the subtle shifts of bodies that said be careful.
I wasn't dangerous yet, not in the way they respected, but I was unfamiliar. And unfamiliar things unsettled them.
Rhea worked me harder than the others.
She never announced it as punishment, but my body knew better. Dawn runs that pushed my lungs to burning. Balance drills that left my legs trembling. Sparring sessions where I was paired with wolves who outweighed me, outranked me, and had no patience for my learning curve.
"Again," Rhea snapped as I struggled to regain my footing.
Mud coated my palms. My breath came in harsh pulls, chest aching with every inhale. I pushed myself up anyway, ignoring the way my hands shook.
"You hesitate," she continued, circling me like a hawk. "Hesitation gets you killed."
"I'm thinking," I shot back, before I could stop myself.
A few nearby wolves snorted. One laughed under his breath.
Rhea stopped in front of me. Slowly, deliberately, she leaned down until her face was inches from mine. "Thinking is a luxury," she said quietly. "Instinct keeps you alive."
Her eyes searched my face, sharp and probing. "Unless your instinct is broken."
Something twisted in my chest at that.
"I don't feel broken," I said.
Rhea straightened, studying me anew.
"That might be the problem."
I felt him before I saw him.
The alpha stood at the edge of the clearing, posture relaxed, arms folded behind his back. He didn't shout instructions. Didn't intervene. His presence alone altered the air, pulling tension tight as a drawn wire.
When his gaze met mine, my stomach clenched.
Not fear.
Awareness.
I didn't know what he was looking for, only that he hadn't looked away once since training began.
That night, exhaustion dragged at my limbs as I lay on the narrow bed assigned to me. Sleep didn't come easily anymore. My senses refused to shut down, every sound too sharp, every movement too loud.
I pressed a hand to my chest.
The ache was there again.
Not pain. Not hunger. Something deeper. Heavy. Settled.
As if something inside me was waiting.