The next morning, the sound of fists hitting padded targets pulled me from sleep.
Kael was in the corner of the yard, bare arms gleaming in the early sun as he sparred with one of his warriors. Each movement was efficient, controlled … the kind of precision that came from years of fighting and knowing you were always going to win.
When he saw me at the edge of the balcony, he called up, "Get dressed. You're next."
I stared down at him. "Next for what?"
"Training," he said, like the word was as ordinary as breakfast.
"I'm not…"
"You are," he cut in. "Full moon's in two nights. You're going to know how to put someone on the ground before then."
I found myself standing in the training yard half an hour later, wearing boots and borrowed gear from one of the female warriors, Sera. She gave me a tight smile, like she was still deciding if I'd be worth the effort.
"She's with me," Kael told her.
"With you or under you?" she asked without looking away from me.
Kael's eyes narrowed, but he didn't take the bait. "She's learning from you. No one else."
Sera arched a brow. "Because you don't trust me, or because you don't trust them?"
"Yes," Kael said.
Sera smirked and turned to me. "Come on, Luna."
We started with the basics, stance, guard, where to put your weight. Sera was patient but didn't hold back, pushing me to block, sidestep, and counter until my arms ached.
"Good," she said finally. "You move faster than you look."
From the other side of the yard, Kael called, "She's not fast enough yet."
Sera rolled her eyes and tossed me a practice blade. "Ignore him."
I didn't. Kael's gaze was like a weight on the back of my neck, tracking every move I made.
After an hour, sweat was sliding down my spine, and my breathing was uneven. Sera motioned for a break, but Kael walked over before I could sit.
"You drop your guard when you pivot," he said, stepping close enough that I could feel the heat of him. He reached around me, adjusting my grip, his chest brushing my shoulder. "Like this. Keep it tight."
The correction sent a current down my arm that had nothing to do with fighting.
I stepped away, pretending to focus on the blade. "I'll remember."
"See that you do," he said.
Liam joined the younger wolves later, running drills with wooden weapons. I watched from the sidelines as he ducked under a swing and struck his opponent clean in the side.
"Who taught him that?" I asked.
Kael didn't look away from the field. "Instinct."
"He's just a boy."
"He's my son," Kael said. "It's in him, whether you like it or not."
Something about the way he said my son made my chest tighten. Not because I doubted it, but because part of me knew that after the full moon, there'd be no hiding it from anyone.
That night, Kael spread a map across the table in his quarters. Tarin stood beside him, pointing at marked patrol routes.
"They'll come from the east," Tarin said. "We've set four points here, here, here, and here. If they breach, we push them toward the river."
"And the boy?" Tarin asked.
Kael's eyes slid to me. "With me."
"No," I said.
"Yes," he countered. "You think I'm letting him out of my reach when Blackclaw's looking for him? Not happening."
"You can't fight and guard him at the same time," I argued.
Kael's voice was calm. "I can do both. I've done both."
I knew that tone, the one that meant the conversation was over whether I liked it or not.
The second day of training hurt worse than the first. Sera pushed me harder, moving from drills to live sparring. She knocked me on my back twice before I managed to throw her off balance.
Kael was there again, watching, his expression unreadable.
"You hesitate," he said when Sera stepped away.
"Because I'm thinking," I shot back.
"Don't. Thinking gets you killed. React."
Easy for him to say.
That evening, after Liam was asleep, I went out onto the balcony to stretch my aching muscles. The moon was almost full, its pale light cutting through the trees.
I heard the door open behind me. Kael stepped out, a glass in one hand. He held it out to me.
"Water," he said.
I took it, sipping slowly. "You're quiet tonight."
"I'm counting," he said.
"Counting what?"
"How many ways this could go wrong."
I set the glass down. "And how many ways could it go right?"
His eyes held mine. "One. We walk away alive."
Something in his voice made me shiver. Not fear, but the heavy awareness that when Kael set his mind on something, he didn't let go.
The final day before the full moon, the packhouse was a storm of movement. Warriors checked weapons. Scouts reported from the perimeter.
Kael kept Liam close, moving him from room to room as he oversaw preparations. It wasn't subtle, everyone who saw knew exactly why.
By late afternoon, the tension in the air was almost unbearable. Sera found me in the hallway and pressed a small dagger into my hand.
"For when you can't reach him," she said.
I nodded, sliding it into my boot.
Kael appeared a moment later. His gaze flicked from me to Sera. "Something I should know?"
"Just making sure she's not useless out there," Sera said with a shrug.
Kael's eyes lingered on me for a beat too long before he turned away. "She won't be."
That night, sleep didn't come easy. I lay awake, listening to the quiet hum of the packhouse, knowing it wouldn't last.
When I finally drifted off, it was to the sound of Kael's voice outside the door, low and steady as he gave orders.
And when I woke, the moon was high, and the first howl had already split the night.