Chapter 41

Raven

The morning sun had barely crested over the castle walls when Ember and I made our way to the training yard. I’d hardly slept at all last night, tossing and turning after my little late night run-in with Hannah. Ember was still watching me out of the corners of her eyes, clearly waiting for me to elaborate as to why I had woken her to help me build a barricade in the middle of the night.

“Are you going to tell me what happened now?” she asked, tossing me a short practice sword for today’s session.

“Oh, not much.” I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Just a little chat with our favorite person.”

Ember’s eyes narrowed. “Are you referring to Hannah?”

I nodded. “She cornered me last night. With a knife. Said a few things about me being weak, useless… you know, the usual.”

We went through some warm-up exercises as I explained last night’s little incident. But to my surprise, instead of looking concerned, Ember snorted—actually snorted—and a laugh escaped her that sounded almost gleeful.

“You… scared her off with a little knife?”

“She didn’t exactly scurry away, but yeah,” I replied, feeling a tiny flicker of pride at Ember’s words. “I’m still not sure how I managed it. My hand moved before my brain did.” And it was true; last night, it was as if I had gone into some kind of instinct mode. The knife I’d been keeping strapped to my leg had come in handy, to say the least.

“Well, then,” Ember said, smirking as she lifted her sword and parried my attack, “it seems that Hannah’s bark might be worse than her bite.”

“You don’t think she’ll try anything else?” I asked, tightening my grip on the practice sword as I blocked her next swing.

“Not soon, at least,” Ember replied. “But do not get too comfortable. Women like her never really back down, especially not when it comes to a prince.” She knocked her sword against mine, sending a sharp clang echoing through the yard. “But do not expect anyone to punish her, either. This kind of thing…” she shrugged, “it’s normal in Lycan society.”

I grimaced, lowering my blade for a moment. “Normal? Trying to stab someone over petty jealousy is normal?”

Ember rolled her eyes as if I were asking the stupidest question she’d ever heard. “For Lycans? Completely. Noblewomen here bicker, fight, and sometimes kill each other. It is just how things are.”

“Barbaric,” I muttered under my breath, curling my lip as I lifted my sword again.

But there was an odd… thrill beneath my irritation. The idea of standing my ground… of fighting back if Hannah tried anything else… it wasn’t as repulsive as it should have been. Maybe a few weeks ago it would have had the opposite effect on me. Perhaps I was getting a little too comfortable a little too quickly in this new world.

Suddenly, Ember closed the distance between us—more quickly than I’d anticipated.Then, with ease, she knocked the practice sword from my slackened hands and sent it skittering across the dirt. Before I could even move, the dull point of her own sword was pressed to the underside of my chin.

“All the more reason to keep training,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “If you are going to survive in this barbaric world, then you should at least know how to rely on your own skills.”

I swallowed hard, realizing she was right. Last night, instinct had taken over at just the right moment. But I couldn’t always rely on instinct. And right now, with my sword laying on the other side of the ring and Ember’s own blade touching my skin, was a prime example of that.

Finally, Ember lowered her sword and took a step back. “Again,” she said, getting into position. “And do not let your guard down this time. Not even in the midst of conversation.”

I nodded, grabbing my sword and turning to face her again. We began to spar once more, practicing feints and parries and basic hits. But as we worked, I couldn’t help but think back on my life in the Werewolf world—and how perhaps it wasn’t so different from here.

“You know,” I said as I blocked a blow from Ember’s sword, “the modeling world back home isn’t all that different, I suppose.”

“Oh?” Ember raised an eyebrow in response. She seemed a little more curious than judgmental.

“In a way, back home, I had to deal with a hundred Hannahs every single day,” I said, taking another swing at her, which she blocked easily.

“Doubtful.” She sidestepped my swing with catlike fluidity.

I laughed. “I’m serious! Sure, they weren’t running around with knives, but they might as well have been. There was this girl once who spread a rumor that I’d—”

“Rumors?” Ember looked unimpressed. “You think that idle gossip is the same as weaponry?”

“You’d be surprised.” I stepped back, avoiding a strike aimed at my abdomen. “We don’t use weapons, but words. And if you ask me, that kind of backstabbing can be just as brutal.”

Ember remained silent, studying me with an amused glint in her eyes.

“But at least here,” I muttered, swinging again and managing to force her to step back, “Lycan women are honest about their intentions. You don’t pretend to be best friends while plotting behind someone’s back.”

As I took another step forward, feinting to the right and then striking at Ember’s left, I felt a pang of anger shoot through me.

Dani.

She was supposed to be my best friend. My only friend, really, in a world where people only cared about money and status. And yet she had stolen my things, fucked my boyfriend, and then had the audacity to get engaged to the fucker.

I didn’t say that out loud to Ember, obviously. But I think she could sense my anger, if my sudden grunt, lunge, and swing powerful enough to knock the sword from her hand was any indication.

She stared at me for a moment, surprised, as I aimed my practice sword at the side of her neck. The dull blade gently pressed against her skin, but she wasn’t looking at it. She was looking at my chest, which was heaving with barely contained rage.

“You say that our world is barbaric,” she finally said, her voice quieter than usual. “But there is something honorable about that, too. About being ‘barbaric’ enough to be outward with your intentions.”

I nodded and lowered my sword, unable to deny the logic in that. I didn’t miss the lies and false smiles from back home, and I’d seen enough of this world’s cruelty already to know that Ember was right.

The sun climbed higher as we trained, my muscles growing sore with each passing hour. I swung, dodged, and parried under Ember’s watchful gaze, my mind torn between thoughts of… well, everything. Hannah, Nathan, Dani, my father, Neil, the Lycan court, my horrible swordsmanship skills.

And most of all, I thought about how eerily quiet the castle was with Neil, Eric, and Castor gone.

The hours dragged on, and still, there was no sign of them. The warriors hadn’t returned.

Eventually, Ember lowered her sword, breathing heavily. “I think that is enough for one day.”

I nodded, too exhausted to continue, even though training was a nice distraction. Ember seemed to enjoy the distraction, too.

“Shouldn’t they be back by now?” I found myself asking as we put away our supplies.

“It depends,” Ember replied, her brow furrowing as she scanned the horizon. “But it is unusual for a mission like this.”

I bit my lip, a hundred worst-case scenarios racing through my mind. They were Lycans—strong, powerful, practically unstoppable. And they were fighting mere rogues, not Werewolf soldiers equipped with all kinds of modern weapons.

But I couldn’t shake the thought of Neil lying somewhere out there, hurt or… worse.

“What if…” I hesitated, the words tasting sour on my tongue. “What if they’re in trouble?”

Ember’s gaze sharpened, her eyes narrowing as if daring me to suggest it again. “Do not go assuming the worst, Raven. These are trained warriors. Lycans who have fought their whole lives. They know what they are doing.”

I wanted to believe her, of course. But the look in her eyes only made the knot in my chest tighten.

“If they’re not back by nightfall, I’m riding out,” I said simply.

“What?” Ember looked amused. “You, riding out into a battle? That’s reckless.”

“It’s more reckless to stay here while they’re out there risking their lives,” I shot back.

Just as Ember opened her mouth to argue, the sound of hooves clattering on the path made both of us whip around. Relief flooded through me as I saw the warriors approaching, dust kicking up in their wake.

“Speak of the devils,” Ember said, although there was no relief in her tone. The warriors had returned, but I couldn’t see Neil, Eric, or Castor.

We rushed toward the noise, along with many others who had remained at the castle. Women cried out with relief as their warriors dismounted, children rushed forward to be scooped up into sweaty, blood-splattered arms.

Ember and I exchanged wary glances as we pushed our way through the crowd. My heart began to pound as we searched, still not finding—

And then I saw him. Neil, leading his dark horse, his face shadowed beneath his cloak. He looked unharmed, maybe a little tired, but alive.

He was alive.

Before I knew it, I was running, my heart pounding as I sprinted toward the gates. My feet barely touched the ground, and as soon as I reached him, my legs nearly gave out beneath me. Without thinking, I threw my arms around him and pressed my face to his neck.

“Neil…”

Neil froze, clearly taken aback, but after a second he patted my back and sounded… amused.

“It’s just a few rogues, Raven. What are you so worried about?”