Chapter 50
Elara's POV
The bus lurched to a stop at the forest edge.
I pressed my forehead against the window. Studied the terrain through the glass.
Dense vegetation. Narrow trails visible between the trees. But the ground looked stable. No obvious hazards.
Relatively safe.
Coach Warren stood at the front of the bus. "Listen up. Three kilometers to the campsite. On foot. No complaining."
Someone groaned behind me.
Sophia's voice carried from the back. Loud enough for everyone to hear. "Three kilometers? In these shoes? Do you know how much these cost?"
I didn't turn around.
Warren's laugh was cold. Sharp. "Wolf training doesn't adjust for expensive footwear. You want to survive in the real world? Learn to move in whatever you're wearing."
My lips twitched.
He wasn't wrong.
In the Northern Territories, we ran barefoot through snow. Wore whatever scraps we could find. Survival didn't care about designer brands.
The bus doors hissed open.
"Move out," Warren ordered.
I grabbed my backpack. Followed Chloe down the aisle.
Blythe was waiting at the bottom of the steps. His hand extended toward me. "Here, let me—"
"I'm fine." I stepped past him.
His smile tightened. Just for a second.
Then it was back. Easy. Charming.
Fake.
---
We started walking.
The trail was narrow. Uneven. Tree roots jutted across the path like tripwires.
I kept my breathing steady. Matched my pace to the group.
Chloe walked beside me. Already breathing harder than she should be.
"How much farther do you think?" she asked.
"We just started."
"I know, but..." She adjusted her backpack straps. "I'm not exactly built for this."
I glanced at her. "You'll be fine."
Ahead of us, Ryan was setting the pace. The club president moved with the easy confidence of someone who'd done this a hundred times.
Behind us, I could hear Sophia complaining to Blythe. Something about blisters and ruined shoes.
I tuned her out.
Focused on the forest instead.
The trees here were different from Black Ridge. Younger. Less dense. The canopy let more light through.
Five miles from the refugee camp.
Close enough to be dangerous if the professional team was still active.
Far enough that we probably wouldn't stumble into the refugees.
Probably.
My hand drifted to my pocket. Felt the outline of my phone.
Kael's message was still there. Burned into my brain.
Contact me immediately if anything happens.
I pushed the thought away.
Focus.
---
An hour into the hike, Warren called for a stop.
"Gather around," he said.
The group clustered together. Some people dropped their packs. Sat on fallen logs.
I stayed standing.
Warren walked to a pile of wooden crates stacked beside the trail. "Pop quiz. Each of you takes one crate. Fifteen kilograms of archery equipment or camping gear. Carry it the rest of the way."
More groans.
Sophia's voice rose above the rest. "You're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Warren's expression didn't change. "This is basic load-bearing. If you can't handle fifteen kilos, you have no business in the wilderness."
He gestured to the crates. "Pick one. Let's move."
Sophia pushed to the front immediately. Grabbed the smallest crate she could find.
Blythe moved toward me. "Elara, why don't you take a small one? I can—"
"I'll choose my own." I walked past him.
Scanned the crates.
Picked one in the middle. Not too heavy. Not too light.
Hoisted it onto my shoulder.
The weight settled against my collarbone. Familiar. Comfortable.
I reached for the rope coiled on top of the crate. Looped it around the box. Secured it with a quick-release knot.
The movements came automatically.
Muscle memory from a lifetime I wasn't supposed to have.
I looked up.
Warren was watching me.
His eyes narrowed slightly. Then he nodded. Once.
Approval.
Shit.
I'd done it again.
Moved too smoothly. Too professionally.
I forced myself to adjust the rope. Made it look like I was struggling with the knot.
Warren turned away. Started checking the other students.
My heart was pounding.
I needed to be more careful.
---
The second half of the trail was steeper.
The path angled upward. Rocky. Uneven.
People started falling behind.
Their breathing got louder. Harsher.
I kept my pace steady.
The daily morning runs paid off. My legs burned, but the sensation was manageable. Controlled.
Beside me, Chloe was struggling.
Her face was red. Sweat dripped down her temples.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Fine." She gasped. "Just... need... a second."
I slowed down. Matched her pace.
She fumbled with her water bottle. Nearly dropped it.
I caught it. Unscrewed the cap. Handed it to her.
"Thanks," she wheezed.
We kept walking.
Ahead, Ryan crested the hill. Disappeared over the top.
A tall guy I didn't know was right behind him.
I pushed harder. Felt the crate shift on my shoulder.
My thighs screamed. Lungs burned.
But I didn't stop.
The hilltop came into view.
I climbed the last few meters. Stepped onto the rocky plateau.
Warren was already there. Arms crossed. Stopwatch in hand.
"Third," he said. "Not bad."
I set the crate down. Tried to look more tired than I felt.
Chloe stumbled up behind me. Collapsed onto a rock.
Other students trickled in. One by one.
Sophia arrived near the end of the group.
Her perfect hair was disheveled. Makeup smudged.
She saw me standing there.
Her eyes went cold.
I met her gaze.
Held it.
She looked away first.
---
The campsite was a wide plateau overlooking the forest.
Warren gave us thirty minutes to rest. Eat lunch.
I found a spot near the edge. Sat with my back against a boulder.
Pulled out the sandwich Mom had packed this morning.
The bread was slightly crushed. But it tasted like home.
Like safety.
I pushed the thought away.
Chloe dropped down beside me. "You're insane, you know that?"
"What?"
"You carried that crate like it weighed nothing. And you weren't even breathing hard at the end."
I shrugged. "Adrenaline."
"Adrenaline doesn't explain how you tied that knot in three seconds."
I took another bite of sandwich.
Didn't answer.
Chloe studied me. "You're different lately."
My chest tightened.
"Different how?"
"I don't know. Stronger, I guess. More..." She trailed off. "Never mind."
I wanted to ask what she meant.
But Warren's whistle cut through the air.
"Break's over! Archery practice in ten minutes!"
---
Warren set up two types of targets.
Fixed targets at twenty meters.
Moving targets on a pulley system at thirty.
"Standard shooting position," he demonstrated. "Feet shoulder-width apart. Draw arm parallel to the ground. Release on the exhale."
He fired.
The arrow hit the fixed target. Dead center.
"Who wants to go first?"
Ryan volunteered. Hit the fixed target. Missed the moving one.
Others followed. Most barely hit the fixed target.
A few missed completely.
Sophia stepped up.
She drew the bow. Smooth. Practiced.
Released.
The arrow struck the moving target. Not center, but solid.
She turned around. Smiled at the group.
Her eyes found mine.
The smile sharpened.
I looked away.
More people took their turns.
Then Warren called my name.
"Elara. You're up."
I walked to the line.
Picked up the bow.
The weight felt wrong in my hands. Too light. Too modern.
I nocked an arrow.
Lifted the bow.
And suddenly I wasn't in Oregon anymore.
I was on a frozen ridge. Wind cutting through my clothes. Rifle scope pressed against my eye.
Breathe in. Hold. Squeeze.
The memory slammed into me.
Sniper training.
Lynette's training.
I forced myself back to the present.
Adjusted my stance.
Drew the string.
Exhaled slowly.
Released.
The arrow flew.
Hit the moving target.
Center mass.
I nocked another arrow.
Didn't think.
Just moved.
Drew. Exhaled. Released.
Second arrow.
Same spot.
Third arrow.
The same exact spot.
All three arrows clustered together. Tight enough to touch.
The plateau went silent.
I lowered the bow.
Looked at Warren.
His face was unreadable.
Then he spoke.
"You're sure this is your first time with the archery club?"
My stomach dropped.
Fuck.
I'd done it again.
"I..." My mind raced. "I used to practice. At home. A long time ago."
Warren's eyes didn't leave mine. "Where did you train?"
"Nowhere official. Just... backyard targets."
He didn't look convinced.
But he nodded. "Impressive. Next person."
I walked back to the group.
My hands were shaking.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I'd let the muscle memory take over.
Hadn't thought about how it would look.
Chloe grabbed my arm. "Oh my god, Elara! That was incredible!"
I forced a smile. "Thanks."
But I wasn't looking at Chloe.
I was looking at Sophia.
She stood ten feet away.
Staring at me.
Her smile was still in place. Sweet. Friendly.
But her hands were clenched into fists.
Knuckles white.
And her eyes...
There was nothing sweet about her eyes.
They were cold.
Calculating.
Murderous.