The fire in the hearth crackles softly, warm enough to melt the chill from the forest, but it can't touch the ice curling in my chest. I drop onto the edge of my bed, hands clenching into fists. Luke Vrenatta. God, that little shit is impossible to forget.
I force myself to stand. No. Focus. The pack comes first. Father's orders, the border, the Omegas. I can't afford distractions. Not yet.
A sharp knock on the door interrupts my thoughts.
"Asha," I call, voice clipped.
She steps in, rolling her eyes before I can even say anything. "Did you just sit there and brood all night? Because that's a full-on mood, and frankly, it's disturbing."
"I'm not brooding," I snap. "I'm thinking strategically."
She raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at her lips. "Sure. Strategic. About who, exactly?"
I glare. "You don't get it, Asha. It's… complicated."
"Complicated?" she echoes, crossing her arms. "You mean the cocky Vrenatta brat who's already invading your thoughts without permission?"
I stiffen. Damn it. How does she always know?
"Keep your mouth shut," I mutter, brushing past her to the training room. If I move, I can force the thoughts to leave, or at least drown them in sweat and claws.
Asha follows without a word, because she knows better than to argue when I'm like this. She's always known how to push and pull, guide me without forcing me to show weakness. My Beta, my anchor, even if she's irritating as hell sometimes.
The training room smells of sweat and pine. Wooden dummies line the walls, targets scattered across the floor. I stretch, muscles tight, and let Asha set up the sparring targets.
"You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" she says casually, adjusting a dummy's stance.
I snap, "No! And stop asking!"
"Fine," she says, holding up her hands, but the smirk stays. "But your blood doesn't lie, Mari. And neither does the tension radiating off you like heat from a forge."
I growl, grabbing a training staff and swinging it at the nearest dummy. It shatters on impact. Shit. Good thing these aren't real targets yet.
"You're really angry tonight," Asha comments. "And trust me, I know the difference between anger and distraction."
I freeze mid-strike. Damn her. Every word digs in, pokes at me, and I hate that she can see it. "I'm not distracted," I growl.
"Sure," she says, rolling her eyes. "Keep telling yourself that. But if I see you sneaking into the forest again… or thinking about Vrenatta brat—"
I snort, cutting her off. "I'll handle it."
"Yeah, sure," she mutters, smirking, "your way always ends in chaos. Don't say I didn't warn you."
I ignore her, focusing on the targets ahead. Each strike, each swing, each controlled movement is a battle to expel thoughts of Luke. But no matter how hard I try, I can feel the memory of his smirk, his cocky stance, the way he leans against trees like he owns the forest… it's there. Constant. Annoying as hell.
Asha steps beside me, adjusting my stance mid-swing without even asking. "You're tense. Relax your shoulders, Mari. You're wasting energy."
"Not tense," I snap, and then realize my voice is sharp enough to cut glass. I grit my teeth. "Just… focused."
"Right," she mutters, smirk still firmly in place. "Focused on… him?"
I glare. "No. I don't care about him."
"Uh-huh," she says, tilting her head. "And I'm the Beta. You always let me see right through you."
I clench my jaw, swinging again. The wood splinters under my staff. Shit. My frustration isn't just about Luke. It's about the pack. The border. The Omegas. The fact that Krell is still out there somewhere, scheming. Everything presses down on me, and Luke is just… a spark in the middle of the fire.
Asha steps back, nodding toward the far wall where a map of the Ventor territory is pinned. "Father wants patrol rotations adjusted after last night. The eastern ridge isn't secure. Too exposed."
I move to the map, tracing the ridges with a finger. "We need more sentries. Rotate shifts faster. Lira can handle observation posts, Fynn will accompany her."
Asha nods. "And the southern border?"
"Kael's Alpha always had eyes on it. But I'll double-check tomorrow. Nothing slips past me," I say firmly.
She smirks. "Confidence. Love it. Just don't let it blind you… like that Vrenatta brat already has."
I snap around to glare at her. "That's not relevant right now."
She laughs, like I've just said something ridiculous. "You can fight me all you want, but I know you better than you know yourself. That little spark between you and Luke isn't going away. Not if you keep fighting it."
I huff, running a hand through my hair. "I'm not fighting anything. He's the enemy. That's it. Nothing else."
"Sure," she mutters, but her tone isn't convinced.
Training continues, sparring with dummies, honing reflexes, ignoring everything but the sound of wood splintering and my own heartbeat. Yet even in the rhythmic movements, I can't help but replay the last glance Luke gave me. That smirk, that fire, that… infuriating certainty that he's always one step ahead.
By the time the session ends, sweat drips from my hair and my body aches. I sink to the floor, exhausted, but the tension in my chest hasn't eased. Shit. I hate this feeling.
Asha sits across from me, stretching, smirk still firmly in place. "Tomorrow, I'll be on the eastern ridge. You can handle the southern patrol. And… maybe try not to think about Vrenatta brat while you're at it."
I growl, getting to my feet. "You're insufferable."
"And you're… addicted," she says, voice teasing, eyes gleaming. "Even if you don't realize it yet."
I bite back a retort. Instead, I stalk toward the window, staring out at the forest. The night is quiet now, shadows long and thick. Somewhere out there, Luke Vrenatta is probably grinning like an idiot, thinking he's untouchable.
I clench my fists.
Not for long.
I'll be ready.
Shit, I'll be ready for everything.
Even him.