Chapter 192 Training The Future

Chapter 192 Training The Future
Maddie Pov 

The morning dirt on the training field was dry and packed flat from three hours of running drills. Five young female wolves stood in a straight line near the creek bank, their linen shirts damp with sweat as they held their wooden practice short-spears against their shoulders. I stood three paces in front of them with my hands resting flat on my hips, feeling the steady warmth of the baby's pulse beneath my wide leather belt line.

"Keep your heels planted into the grass tracks, girls," I instructed and I shifted my boots sideways to demonstrate the balance point. My collarbone remained perfectly cool under the sun, and the old gold spear mark did not throb even when I bent my knees to show the low stance. "The mountain warriors use heavy iron plates on their chests. If your feet are sliding on the wet gravel when they push their silver shields forward, your frame will hit the dirt before your point can find a gap in their armor laces."

"The shield line moves very fast, Maddie," a young female named Cara noted and she lowered her cedar spear to wipe her forehead with the back of her wrist. Her small legs were trembling slightly from the long running drills, but her dark eyes stayed locked onto my posture. "Rex told us that the peak guards do not look down at their feet when they cross the salt border path. How do we reach the neck if the metal plate is covering the whole chin line?"

"You wait for the step."

"What if they do not step?"

"Every wolf steps when they swing," I replied.

"You have to hit them first," Cara muttered.

"You have to hold the ground first," I corrected.

I walked down the short line and tapped the end of Cara's cedar shaft with my knuckles, forcing her to lift the point two inches higher until it aligned with my shoulder joint. The four other girls watched my hands, their breathing slowing down as the cool wind came through the pine ridge to clear the heat from the field. They were growing stronger every week, their cheeks looking full and healthy now that Mark was distributing the deer portions evenly from the salt shed.

"I remember when Dominic brought his three wolves into our middle clearing," I revealed and I sat down on a smooth cedar log near the tool rack to rest my ankles.

"Were you shaking, Maddie?"

"My legs were shaking from the famine weeks," I admitted.

"But you still launched your frame forward."

"Someone had to hold the center line," I shared.

"Calix says you did not look back once."

"Looking back does not stop the spear," I stated.

The girls nodded together and began mimicking the stance, their wooden tips cutting through the morning air with a light, rhythmic whistling sound. I watched them work for several minutes, keeping my spine straight against the cedar bark as I let the sun warm my neck. The pack was thriving in the new peace, and the sound of axes cutting the winter logs from the north pasture filled the clearing with a steady, safe beat.

"Take a five-minute break by the well post," I called out across the grass path.

"Thank you, head trainer," Cara shouted back.

They dropped their cedar sticks into the wood rack and ran toward the kitchen door, their boots kicking up small clods of dry dirt as they raced for the water buckets. I stayed on the log block, my right hand dropping down naturally to rest over the linen cloth of my lower ribs where the small pulse was moving. The soft white glow from the evening gathering had not returned, but the heat inside my frame felt deep and completely synchronized with my own breathing.

"The young ones are learning the balance point quickly," Calix said and he stepped out from the hazel brush behind my shoulder, holding two fresh apples in his palm.

He did not go back to the logging gap; he sat down right next to me on the cedar block, his heavy leather vest brushing my arm as he handed me the larger piece of fruit. His gray eyes looked down at my belt lace with that same quiet, protective expression he had worn since the ritual post split.

"They will be ready before the first ice touches the path," I assured and I took a small bite of the red apple skin.

"Rex wants to add three more hunting drills on the north slope."

"Let him add them tomorrow."

"Your frame looks rested today, Maddie," he murmured.

"The baby is quiet when the sun is high," I noted.

He placed his big hand over my knuckles, his thumb tracing the clear skin of my wrist where the red lines used to burn. We sat together without speaking for a long moment, just listening to the distant laughter of the pups by the meat shed and the steady flow of the creek water over the slate. The old fear that had kept our muscles tight for three moons had dissolved completely, leaving only the hard-earned peace of the valley floor.

"I need to check the cabin roof insulation before Mark returns," Calix muttered and he stood up from the log, his boots making a light throb against the dirt.

"Go fix the boards," I encouraged.

He squeezed my shoulder once and walked toward the back cabin path, his frame moving with the easy, slow stride of an Alpha who knew his territory was secure. I closed my eyes against the bright morning light and leaned my head back against the flat cedar top, letting my arms relax completely against my sides as the quietness of the field settled around my seat.

The sound of the chopping axes faded first, followed by the running water of the creek bed until the whole clearing went entirely silent inside my ears.

A sudden white flash did not hit my eyes, but the dark space behind my eyelids opened up into a wide, snowy pasture that I had never seen before. The pine ridge was covered in three feet of heavy winter ice, and the mountain peaks were completely white under a dark blue midnight sky. A single wolf was standing right at the center of the salt border line, its frame taller than Rex’s hunting spear and its stance completely rock-solid against the northern wind.

The coat was not gray or black like mine or Calix's; it was made of a pure, brilliant white hair that seemed to catch the light from the stars.

The white wolf turned its head slowly toward the cabin path, its eyes glowing with the same steady gold light that had lived between my ribs since the contract split. It did not growl and it did not move to run; it just planted its wide paws into the heavy snow and gave one short, powerful nod toward my seat on the cedar log. The weight of the mountain line was in that nod, but it carried no debt and no pain, only the absolute strength of a leader who owned the entire region.