Chapter 16 – Proving Ground
The morning air was brisk, sharp with the bite of early autumn as Giselle stepped onto the training field. The mist clung low to the ground, curling between her ankles like spectral fingers as the rest of the pack gathered. The weight of their stares pressed heavy against her skin, but she kept her chin high, shoulders squared. She had survived worse than their judgment.
It had been weeks since she and her family were brought into the pack. Weeks of whispered slurs behind her back, and glares sharp enough to draw blood. But it had also been weeks of training, bruises, and stubborn perseverance. Her muscles ached less now. Her stance held stronger. She still couldn’t match the strength or skill of most of the others, but she no longer wavered under their taunts.
And today, for the first time, Sylah hadn’t immediately singled her out.
Giselle met her gaze across the sparring circle, expecting the usual challenge—the pointed digs, the extra force in every blow. But Sylah’s eyes were different this morning. Still sharp, but not cruel. She offered a short nod of acknowledgment, then turned away to bark orders at the rest of the fighters.
Relief, subtle and strange, coiled inside Giselle’s chest. Had Rowan said something to her?
Their training began with sparring rotations, and Giselle was paired with a lower-ranked female named Mera. Their match was fast and rough, but for the first time, Giselle held her own. She dodged two blows cleanly, landed a knee to the side, and only ended up on her back once. Improvement.
By the time the training whistle blew, her arms were trembling and sweat trickled down her spine. But she was smiling. The ache was hard-earned, and it made her feel strong.
As the trainees filed away to grab water and towels, Giselle caught sight of Sylah watching her from across the field. There was no smirk, no snide comment. Just a tilt of the head, and then she turned and walked away.
The silence felt louder than any insult.
As the training grounds were cleared away, Giselle wiped sweat from her brow, exhaustion weighing heavily on her. She sat on a bench, catching her breath, when a gorgeous woman approached. "Mind if I sit?" the woman asked, her voice warm.
Giselle looked up to see a friendly face, a welcome contrast to the hostility she'd faced all morning. "Please," she replied.
Giselle was reluctant to trust anyone’s kindness in a pack that had treated her and her family so horribly in the past few weeks. Whispers had followed Giselle and her family wherever they went. Some pack members avoided them, while others watched with suspicion.
Despite the uneasiness churning in her stomach, she indicated to the open bench beside her, allowing the woman the chance to say her piece.
"I'm Rhea," the woman said without immediately taking the offered seat.
Rhea stood a few feet away, her posture graceful and unthreatening, a towel draped over one arm. Her soft features were unreadable, though her eyes held something that made Giselle’s stomach twist—a calm, assessing look.
“Hi,” Giselle said, heart thudding. "Giselle." She knew exactly who it was that was standing in front of her, but what she didn’t know was how the woman would treat her.
Rowan said that he believed that Rhea meant her no harm, but it wouldn’t be the first time that someone fooled another of their innocence. This is the reason that Giselle and her wolf stayed on guard as Rhea got closer.
“I know who you are,” Giselle said before she could stop herself. Heat crept into her cheeks. “I mean—I’ve heard of you.”
Rhea’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Of course you have.”
A long silence stretched between them. Giselle felt rooted to the spot, uncertain if she should run or stay. This woman, this quiet and poised Beta female, was supposed to be courting her mate. And yet here she was, standing calmly in front of her like they weren’t on opposite sides of a battlefield.
“You fought well today,” Rhea said eventually, her voice gentle. “You’re improving.”
Giselle blinked. “Thank you. That... means a lot.”
Rhea studied her for a moment. “I know who you are. And I know what the pack thinks of you. But I also know our Alpha.”
Giselle held her breath.
“He wouldn’t care about any of that. Not really.” There was something honest in Rhea’s tone—something that didn’t reek of competition or veiled threat. It caught Giselle off guard.
“I’m not trying to take him from you,” Giselle said quietly, her fingers curling into the hem of her shirt. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I know,” Rhea said. “That’s why I wanted to meet you. To see for myself.”
Giselle frowned. “See what?”
“If you were strong enough to be Luna.”
That silenced her.
“And?” she asked after a long pause.
Rhea’s smile returned—subtle and a little sad. “I think you’re stronger than you know.” Rhea smiled. "I saw you out there. You held your own."
"Barely," Giselle said with a wry grin.
"Don't sell yourself short. It takes courage to face that kind of reception and still stand tall."
Giselle glanced at her, curiosity piqued. "Why are you being kind to me?"
Rhea shrugged. "Everyone deserves a chance. Besides, I admire your tenacity."
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the tension of the morning easing slightly.
"Thank you," Giselle said softly.
Rhea nodded. "Anytime. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
As Rhea stood to leave, Giselle felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps not everyone in the pack saw her as an outsider. Maybe, just maybe, she could find her place here.
Before Giselle could think of a response, Rhea handed her the towel from her arm. “Dry off. You earned it.”
And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Giselle frozen in place, towel clutched in her hands, and something warm—like hope—spreading through her chest.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
