The sun was already scorching the training yard when the horn blew.
Selene hardly had time to move before the wooden sword hit her shoulder. Instant, rough pain tore through her, and her knees weakened. Clutching her arm, she stumbled backward as the dull throb shocked her bones. The group of people standing in the yard did not attempt to hide their reactions.
"Again?"
"She drops the sword every time."
"She's gotten worse since she came back."
Selene avoided looking at them. She tried not to indicate how much it hurt by staying on her knees in the ground and breathing heavily. Her side throbbed from the bruises of the day before, and her palms ached from where she had landed. But none of it hurt more than the words. None of it hurt more than knowing they were right.
She wasn't ready and she didn't belong.
She wasn't Lyra.
"On your feet!!" The instructor's voice boomed across the yard as he yelled.
Swaying a little, Selene gritted her teeth and stood up.
Her opponent, tall, quick, and cocky Rian, stood across from her looking bored. "Try not to drop it this time, heir," he said, emphasizing the title with mockery. "Or maybe you'd prefer to fight with your words instead?"
The other trainees chuckled and a few didn't bother hiding their disgust.
She glanced toward the edge of the yard.
Kael stood there, arms folded, face stone-still.
Always watching.
She was unable to determine if his silence or his disappointment was worse.
The whistle blew once again.
Rian came at her fast.
Selene tightened her grip on the training sword and brought it up, trying to block. She was too slow. The hit struck her shoulder again, the exact same spot, making her cry out before she could stop herself. Rian didn't back down; he drew his blade down toward her side as he swept her legs out from under her.
Just in time to avoid another blow, Selene rolled out of the way. Breathless, her heart pounding, she scrambled to her feet. Rian smirked.
"You're getting better at running."
That stung. She tried to focus and remember the movements. Keep her blade up and stay low.
She moved first this time.
She lunged, but it was awkward and hasty. Rian sidestepped and elbowed her in the ribs with ease. She fell to her knees again, breathless. Her sword hit the ground.
The trainer raised a hand. "Stop!"
Rian lowered his weapon, though the satisfied smirk remained.
On a spot, arms shaking from the strain of trying to keep herself upright, knees digging into the packed dirt.
All around, whispers spread like smoke.
"She's not Lyra…Not anymore."
"Maybe she hit her head and maybe she forgot who she was."
"She's an embarrassment."
Kael said nothing. After turning, he walked away.
Her chest constricted as She watched him leave.
Why did it matter so much that he didn't say anything? Why did his silence cut deeper than the bruises on her skin?
The trainer stepped toward her. "That's enough for today. You need to…"
"I'm fine," Selene said quickly, forcing herself to stand.
He frowned. "You're not. But if you're going to keep pretending, then get off my yard before you get someone else hurt."
Selene didn't argue.
She left the training yard with her sword dragging slightly in the dirt, shoulders slumped. Her body screamed with pain and her pride screamed louder.
Everything inside her felt like it was unraveling.
-------
Selene didn't return to her quarters.
Rather, she wandered through the inner court till she was exhausted under the tall stone arch next to the east wall. She sat there with her back against the cool wall and her arms around her knees in the shadow of the training halls.
Her whole body ached, her muscles screamed, but her mind screamed louder.
What was she doing?
How long could she pretend to be someone she wasn't?
They all expected Lyra. The cold, sharp-tongued warrior who trained alongside the elite. The heir who once commanded respect, even fear. But Selene—she didn't know how to fight like that. She didn't know how to walk with power or speak with strength.
And now the entire pack was beginning to notice.
She wished she could disappear—again—as she closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to her knees.
"I saw what happened."
The voice made her flinch.
She turned her head quickly.
Thorne.
Kael's Beta stood a few paces away, arms crossed, face unreadable.
"I didn't ask for company," she said softly.
"I didn't come to keep you company." His voice was calm, but not unkind.
She gave him a tired look, "Then why are you here?"
"Because Kael asked me to watch you. And because I needed to see for myself."
Selene turned away, "See what? How badly I fight? How easy it is to knock me down?"
"No," Thorne said. "I wanted to see if you'd get up again."
His words struck her chest like a tiny—soft, undeniable blow.
"I did," she whispered. "Barely."
"You kept standing when most would've quit." He stepped closer, stopping just a few feet from her. "That says something."
She looked at him carefully. "You don't believe I'm Lyra."
Thorne didn't flinch. "No. I don't."