Awakening The Silver Wolf

DARIUS POV 

She was beautiful. 

The darkness of the cell had hidden her, but now, bathed in light and cleansed of the blood, her beauty shone forth. 

Beautiful was too small a word to describe her: she was breathtaking. 

Her silver hair, now cleansed of the crimson stain, shimmered with an almost otherworldly radiance, each strand catching the light and reflecting it with a brilliance that seemed to defy her age. 

Her olive skin, fresh and vibrant, glowed with a healthy luminescence as if she had just emerged from a refreshing dip in a cool spring, the water leaving behind a dewy sheen. 

And her eyes... those piercing gray eyes, they burned with an intensity that was both captivating and unsettling, a fire that seemed to demand attention, a fire I found myself inexplicably drawn to, a fire I longed to quench. 

Her delicate features belied a strength I knew she possessed. The thought of her wielding a sword seemed impossible, yet I knew appearances could be deceiving. 

"You're staring," she said, her voice hard. 

I grinned at her and took a step forward, she took one back. She may be acting all brave but I could see beneath all that. She was afraid of me. She should be. 

"Tell me your name," I said softly. 

"No," came her reply. 

I cocked my head at her, my smile vanishing. "Why won't you?" 

"Because you don't deserve it," she replied, her eyes hard. If looks could kill, I'll be six feet under. 

I didn't push her, I just took a step back. She will give her name soon. That I was sure of. 

"What do you mean my training starts today?" she asked after a while. 

"It means exactly what it means, Silver Wisp," I replied coolly. "You asked for the game to begin and it already did. You will train during the week until the day of our fight. I'm not that cruel, you know? I'll let you train so you'll be at your best when you face me."

She rolled her eyes. "Will I train with your pack?" 

I observed her for a while. "If you want to." 

She nodded. "Do they know about this stupid game?" 

"No. They don't know anything about you or what you did." 

"Of course they don't. You wouldn't want to hurt your already broken ego any further." 

"Indeed," I replied as I smiled.

She watched me, a strange look in her eyes. "You smile a lot," she muttered. 

That only made my smile widen. "You don't think evil bastards can smile?" 

"No, I don't," she replied. "You don't deserve to be happy after everything you've done." 

If only she knew. Happy was not a word for me. I didn't tell her that and just continued watching her. This small creature hated my guts. And I understand that. 

I killed her friend. 

Our feelings were irrelevant. This game was all that mattered, the outcome was the only thing that counted. Whether we liked or loathed each other, it wouldn't change the result. 

I turned away, her gaze a searing presence on my back as I walked back to my desk. 

"The guards outside will show you where the training ground is," I said once I was seated. 

"When will the fight be?" she asked. 

"I can't tell you that, love," I replied. 

"Why not?!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. 

"Because it'll ruin the fun," I said with a small smile. 

She turned and left, but not before she muttered, "Bastard." 

She has no idea how big of a bastard I am. She's about to find out. 

RAVENNA POV 

I stood at the edge of the training field, taking in the sprawling expanse before me. 

The stone walls loomed like silent sentinels, their grandeur confirming my suspicions: this was indeed a castle, though I had only glimpsed a fraction of its beauty. 

The training field itself was unlike any I had seen—a well-maintained expanse of grass, bordered by ancient oaks. 

I watched as various members of the pack sparred and practiced their skills, laughter and shouts filling the air, but none seemed to notice my presence.

It seemed it was a normal thing for this pack to see a new person every day. Not all packs take well to outsiders, but these people haven't even looked my way once. 

I was okay with that though. I was used to being unnoticed and right now I didn't want to draw attention to myself. 

This place, with its rich history and fierce camaraderie, would be my prison. 

I took a deep breath, steeling myself as I walked to the weapon table. 

Since I couldn't spar alone I would train with swords and dagger. 

I picked up a sword, the weight familiar and comforting in my hands, and walked to a corner where I wouldn't be noticed and began my drill. 

The sun hung high in the sky, casting sharp shadows on the ground as I practiced my stances. 

Each swing cut through the air, a blend of anger and frustration fueling my movements.

That giant bastard sure knows how to get on my nerves. He wouldn't tell me the day of the fight. My right to know meant nothing to him, only his own amusement. 

But I wouldn't be caught off guard. Whether he called it today or tomorrow, I would be ready. 

As I thrust the blade forward, I imagined the face of Darius, channeling my anger into each strike. 

I corrected my posture, focusing on my footwork, trying to mimic the techniques I had observed during the pack's training sessions. 

Sweat dripped down my brow, but I pressed on, driven by the desire to prepare myself. 

Despite the solitude, I felt a sense of empowerment with each swing. 

The sword became an extension of myself, a reminder that I was no longer just a prisoner; I was a warrior in my own right. 

With every practice session, I forged a path toward reclaiming my strength, determined to show that bastard that he made a mistake keeping me alive. 

He should have killed me when he got the chance. And now he was going to regret it.

"Your stances are really impressive." A voice startled me, and I whirled around. 

Lucian stood behind me, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and hard.