Chapter 12 Training the Alpha’s Shield
The training courtyard was empty at this hour, lit only by moonlight and a few lanterns left burning along the stone walls. The air smelled of cold earth and steel, sharp and clean.
Kael tossed Riven a practice blade. “Wake the others. Quietly.”
“On it,” Riven said, disappearing into the shadows.
Lina watched him go, then turned to Kael. “You’re gathering warriors at night?”
“I’m gathering the ones I trust,” Kael said. “And only them.”
Lina’s wolf approved of that answer.
Kael stepped closer, the moon catching the scar across his cheek. “You overextended earlier. This training isn’t to exhaust you. It’s to control what you already have.”
Lina crossed her arms. “And what do you think I have?”
Kael’s eyes held hers. “More than you realize.”
Her breath hitched.
Before she could reply, he reached out and took her wrist—firm but gentle—and pulled her into the center of the courtyard.
Her pulse jumped.
“Kael—”
“Show me your stance,” he said.
Lina raised a brow. “You’re giving me lessons?”
He smirked. “You may be older than every wolf here, but you’ve spent three hundred years surviving, not fighting.”
“Surviving is fighting,” she countered.
“Not the same way,” he said softly. “Not when you’re part of a pack.”
The word pack hit her like a jolt.
Her wolf lifted its head.
Kael stepped back a pace and folded his arms. “Stance.”
Lina inhaled, dropped her weight into her hips, widened her feet, and sank low, ready to launch into a strike.
Kael blinked once. “That’s… actually good.”
She smirked. “Try to keep up.”
He moved around her, studying her form. “Your guard is too high.”
“It kept me alive.”
“It’ll get you knocked on your back here.”
She lifted her chin. “Who said I mind that?”
Kael’s steps faltered.
Heat sparked between them, sudden and sharp.
His voice dropped. “Lina.”
She swallowed. “You said stance. I’m giving you stance.”
He exhaled, steadying himself, and the moment eased back into training—barely.
“Lower your arms,” he said.
She did.
“Shift your weight to the balls of your feet.”
Done.
“Now—strike me.”
Lina blinked. “You want me to hit you?”
“I want to see how you fight when you’re not holding back.”
“You won’t like it.”
His eyes glowed faintly gold. “Try me.”
Her wolf growled—a pleased, hungry sound.
Lina lunged.
Kael blocked her first strike easily. Her second he barely caught. The third he didn’t see coming—her foot swept his leg, knocking him back a step.
His grin flashed. “Good.”
She pressed harder, her movements fluid, precise, born from centuries of hunting things no wolf had names for.
Kael adjusted quickly—too quickly. He met her elbow, redirected her momentum, spun her around—
And her back hit the wall.
His arm braced beside her head. His body caged hers in.
Their breaths mingled.
Neither moved.
Lina’s pulse hammered.
Her wolf pressed against her skin.
The bond hummed—soft, hot, undeniable.
“You fight,” Kael murmured, “like someone who’s never had backup.”
“I haven’t,” she whispered.
“You do now.”
Her throat tightened.
Kael stepped back before she could reply, giving her space she didn’t ask for but needed.
“Again,” he said.
Before they reset, the courtyard gate creaked.
Six wolves slipped inside—Kael’s own inner circle. Yara, the broad-shouldered second-in-command. Two scouts. A bruiser named Oren. Two swift-footed fighters Lina had seen earlier.
Yara eyed Lina. “So this is the girl.”
“The girl has a name,” Lina said.
Yara’s lips twitched. “Good. She has a spine.”
“She has teeth too,” Riven added, reappearing with an armful of weapons.
“Riven,” Kael warned.
Riven lifted both hands. “I’m just saying—if the border breaks again, I want her on my side.”
Kael stepped between Lina and the others. “Listen carefully. Whatever is pushing at the Veil? It’s not a wolf. It’s not a witch. It’s not anything we’ve fought before.”
Yara frowned. “So what do we do?”
“We train,” Kael said. “Hard. Fast. But smart.”
Then he glanced at Lina.
“And we listen to the person who’s survived it before.”
Every wolf turned to her.
Lina swallowed, suddenly aware of a dozen eyes watching her. Wolves who didn’t trust easily. Wolves whose ancestors might have hunted hers.
“My tribe held the Veil for generations,” she began, voice strong despite her racing heart. “We didn’t survive because we were fearless. We survived because we were prepared.”
Riven muttered, “Fearless gets you dead.”
Lina continued. “The creatures beyond the Veil don’t attack like wolves. They corrupt. They distort. They overwhelm your senses. You won’t feel claws or teeth first—you’ll feel confusion. Like you’re forgetting where you are.”
Oren shifted uneasily. “How do you fight something like that?”
“You stay anchored,” Lina said. “Focused. Connected to each other.”
Yara crossed her arms. “Because of the Alpha bond?”
“Yes,” Lina said. “And because wolves fight best in unity.”
Kael stepped beside her. “She’s right.”
Lina squared her shoulders. “I can teach you how to resist the distortion. But I need to work with each of you—one on one.”
Riven choked. “She gets to train us? All of us?”
“No,” Kael said. “She’s training me first.”
Riven’s eyes went wide. “Are you insane?”
Kael didn’t blink. “If the border breaks, I’m the first thing it meets. I need to be ready.”
Lina’s stomach flipped.
Kael moved toward her again. “Let’s begin.”
Riven grabbed his hair. “I hate this plan.”
Yara nudged him. “You hate every plan.”
“And I’m usually right!”
Kael ignored them.
He stood in front of Lina, breath steady, body balanced, gaze locked on hers.
“You’re sure?” she asked softly.
“Yes.”
“You might not like what you feel.”
“Then show me anyway.”
Her wolf surged.
Lina touched his forearm lightly. “Then don’t fight me.”
She let her magic rise—slow, controlled—sending a gentle pulse toward him.
Kael inhaled sharply.
The world around them blurred at the edges.
Her magic brushed his mind lightly—testing, nudging, mimicking the sensation of the Veil’s creatures just enough to practice resisting it.
Kael tried to anchor his thoughts.
His breath shuddered.
“What do you feel?” Lina asked quietly.
“Pressure,” he said.
“Where?”
“Here.” He tapped his temple. “And… here.” He pressed a hand over his chest.
Lina stepped closer. “Push back. Ground yourself in something real.”
“Like what?” he asked through tense breath.
She held his gaze.
“Me.”
His eyes snapped to hers—bright, intense, wolf-bright.
It worked.
The distortion wavered around him.
Lina stepped back, releasing the magic instantly.
Kael blinked, steadying himself.
Yara breathed, “That was fast.”
Riven grinned. “He definitely used her as a mental anchor. Did you see his face?”
Kael growled. “Riven.”
“Right, shutting up.”
Lina smirked. “He did good.”
Kael’s eyes softened. “We keep going.”
She nodded.
He held her gaze another moment before adding, voice low:
“And after the training is done… you and I talk.”
Her pulse jumped.
Her wolf nearly purred.
“About what?” she asked.
Kael stepped close enough for his voice to brush her cheek.
“About the bond.”
Lina’s breath caught.
But before she could answer, a horn sounded outside the courtyard—short, sharp, urgent.
Not the border alarm.
Something closer.
Kael stiffened. “That’s the south tower.”
Riven cursed. “Something got inside the perimeter.”
Lina’s wolf lunged forward.
“Kael—”
“I know,” he said. “We run.”
He grabbed her hand.
She didn’t let go.