Chapter 22: A Test of Loyalty

The air was heavy with the smell of blood.

With my heart racing, I dashed towards the chaos close to the training grounds. I noticed a small group of people standing in a half-circle as shouts reverberated throughout the clearing. As I forced my way past the spectators, my stomach turned.

On the ground, a young warrior clutched his side and breathed shallowly. His eyes fluttered as if he were struggling to remain conscious, and his face was pale and drenched in perspiration.

"What took place?" I knelt next to him and demanded.

A stout man with dark eyes, one of the warriors, sneered. "What makes you concerned?"

I turned my attention to the wound and ignored him. A deep gash on the warrior's ribs caused blood to leak out, discolouring his tunic. Claw marks. A rogue assault? A mishandled sparring match?

"Who was responsible for this?" With my hands pressed against the wound to stop the bleeding, I asked.

Someone whispered, "The recruits were training." The blow to Doran was severe. His adversary didn't mince words.

Doran. He was one of the younger warriors, just past his first shift, and I recognised him now. He had always been one of the few people who didn't give me a suspicious look.

His fingers twitched against the dirt as he coughed weakly. "I—I am capable of fighting."

"You can't," I whispered.

I wasn't shocked that someone had been hurt because Derek had been drilling them more forcefully than normal. However, he would lose too much blood if they didn't treat him right away.

"Your healer is where?" I enquired.

Another warrior remarked, "They're with the patrols."

I muttered a curse to myself.

Around me, the warriors paused. None of them offered assistance.

They had no faith in me.

Even as they watched someone die in front of them.

Across the training grounds, my eyes locked with Derek's. Arms crossed, his face unreadable, he watched.

This was a test, then.

Alright.

I ripped my tunic at the bottom and pressed the material up against Doran's wound. I told him to stay with me. "Today is not your death day."

I sensed the tremor in his body as his breath caught.

I had to move quickly.

As I looked around the training area, I noticed a bundle of herbs next to a supply rack. I hurried over and picked up a flask of water and the dried leaves. Even though it wasn't much, it would be sufficient.

In my palm, I ground the herbs, combined them with water, and applied the paste to Doran's wound.

His body tensed as he moaned.

"Good," I whispered. "It's working, then."

The audience continued to observe, whispering to one another.

"Why is she assisting him?" a whisper went up.

Another person sneered, "We could be wrong, and she's poisoning him."

I tightened my jaw.

It made no difference what they believed. They weren't the reason I was doing this.

Doran's breathing became a little more steady. The bleeding had slowed, but he was still in danger.

I faced one of the fighters. "Assist me in moving him."

The man paused, his gaze straying to Derek.

Derek nodded slightly.

At last, the warrior stooped to take Doran's arm and lift hip. I helped him get to the healer's hut by supporting his other side.

I had blood on my hands by the time we got him inside and put him down.

Doran's hand gripped my wrist more tightly. "I'm grateful."

I smiled weakly at him. "You can give me thanks by surviving."

Derek was waiting for me as I went outside.

He said, "You took a risk."

"I took the necessary action."

Whispering among themselves, the other warriors continued to observe. But now they looked at each other differently. Reduced suspicion. More interest.

Today, I had demonstrated something.

Perhaps I wasn't yet Redwater.

However, I was no longer an outsider.

Derek looked at me intently for a long time as though he were analysing every decision I had made.

When he finally said, "You acted quickly," his voice was even. "Efficiently."

With my heart still pounding from the intensity of the situation, I dabbed at my bloodied hands on the tunic's hem. "He was in danger of dying. There was no room for hesitation.

The muttering of the spectators was still audible. Their expressions still showed suspicion, but now they also showed something else: a reluctant recognition, maybe even a flicker of respect.

Derek made a thin line with his lips. "You were aware of your actions."

There was no question.

I raised my chin. "Where others hesitated, I helped."

A warrior gsneered "We don't trust you because of that."

I balled my fists up. That's what I should have anticipated. I would always be the outsider, the Midnight Moon traitor, regardless of what I did or how useful I proved to be.

Derek, however, broke the tension with a scathing order before I could respond.

"Enough." Despite being low, his voice was authoritative. The warriors fell silent at once.

I looked at him as if he would confirm their scepticism and remind me that my presence here was, at most, contingent. However, there was something else in his eyes—though.

Finally, "You did well," he said.

I was surprised by the words.

Instead of feeling relieved, my thoughts were only about how fast the moment could change. A single slip or blunder would undo all the progress.

Derek looked around at the others. "Pay attention. A pack needs more than just physical strength to survive. Quick thinking and strategy are equally important. After a blance in my direction, he turned back to the warriors. "Dismissed."

The crowd started to thin out, but not before giving me a few last looks.

My body was stiff from holding in the tension as I slowly exhaled. Derek's voice interrupted me as I turned to go.

"Claire."

I turned around.

His eyes were unblinking and steady. "Take a stroll with me."

I paused. He wasn't enquiring.

As he led me away from the training grounds and towards the dark trail that wound through the centre of Redwater's territory, I swallowed and fell into step with him.