Chapter 4 Four

Mia moved through the training yard, her steps deliberate, eyes sharp beneath the hood of her cloak. She wasn't just Clinton Roy here; she was a shadow hiding in plain sight, weaving through the pack's fiercest warriors. Every glance felt like a test, every breath a secret.

Then she felt a burning gaze locking onto her from across the yard.

Rita.

The years hadn't dulled the sharpness in Rita's eyes, but there was something new there, something hesitant and... soft. Rita's stare wasn't one of recognition but fascination, as if the persona Mia wore was a beacon in the dull crowd. For a heartbeat, Mia's chest tightened, hope flickering. Could her old friend see through the disguise?

No. Rita's eyes slipped past her, glowing with a quiet kind of awe an affection reserved for someone else. Mia bit back the sting of disappointment.

A memory hit her hard the last time she saw Rita as a child, laughter ringing through the woods, a promise of friendship before the world tore them apart. That girl was gone, replaced by a stranger who barely glanced her way now.

The moment broke when a group of pack members nearby snickered, nudging each other as they whispered about Clinton Roy. One stepped forward, a sneer curling his lips.

"You're out of your league here, Roy. Better watch yourself." he said as he stood with hand behind him slightly leaning in with his chest towards Mia.

Mia's fingers curled into fists at her sides, but she forced herself to keep walking, the weight of countless eyes pressing on her back.

The clang of steel drew Mia toward the training circle where warriors dueled fiercely. Her muscles itched to move, to fight to prove she belonged here despite every doubt.

Jayson's voice cut through the din softly, almost hesitantly.

"Clinton."

She froze, then slowly turned to meet his gaze. His eyes held concern mixed with something warmer, a vulnerability she hadn't expected.

"I thought you might want to train together," he said, stepping closer.

Mia's heart stumbled. She clenched her jaw, struggling to mask the chaos inside.

"I can't," she whispered, shaking her head. "No. I actually don't want to ."

He reached out placing a hand on her shoulder "Why not? You're stronger than a lot of us."

Mia's breath hitched, and when Jayson's hand slightly touched her cheek, her knees betrayed her. She stumbled forward, caught instantly by his steady arms.

His warmth grounded her, his steady heartbeat under her ear a quiet reassurance. She closed her eyes for a moment, tasting safety she hadn't allowed herself in years. Then she quickly stood up.

"Jay..." she said so softly no one but her could hear.

But the moment shattered as Kelvin's mocking voice sliced through the air.

"Well, well, if it isn't Clinton Roy trying to act tough," he sneered, stalking past with a cruel smile. "Thought you'd fold by now."

Mia's eyes flared with fury. "Keep your mouth shut, Kelvin."

Before she could step forward, Jayson's hand gripped her arm firmly. "Don't."

She yanked her arm free, glaring at Jayson. "Don't tell me what to do."

The crowd's murmurs swelled, and then a chilling laugh rang out.

Trina stepped from the shadows like a viper ready to strike.

"So brave," she taunted, eyes glittering with malice. "Do they allow people to compete now because they have pretty faces?"

Mia's throat tightened, memories crashing like a tidal wave.

Flashback

The woods near their childhood home, years ago.

Trina's sneering face loomed over Mia as she knelt in the dirt, tears stinging her eyes.

"You're nothing but a mistake," Trina hissed. "No one wants you here."

Mia's hands clenched the earth, heart breaking but silent.

Back in the present, Mia squared her shoulders, fists clenched.

Without warning, Trina lunged, slashing with a hidden blade aimed at Mia's side.

Mia twisted just in time, feeling the cold bite graze her skin.

The fight erupted in a flurry of strikes and parries. Mia's training surged through her quick blocks, evasive steps, counterattacks. Her body moved with lethal grace, fueled by years of pent-up anger and survival instinct.

Jayson stepped closer, eyes wide.

"Clinton, watch out!"

Trina swung again, vicious and relentless.

Mia ducked low, grabbing Trina's wrist and twisting, forcing the blade to clatter to the ground.

The crowd gasped.

Mia pressed forward, her voice low and fierce.

"You're being reckless my lady."

Trina snarled, backing off with eyes burning . Then she let out a slight smirk

"You don't want to upset the woman you're fighting to marry."

Mia didn't reply.

Her mind raced every insult, every bruise, every moment of isolation.

She wasn't just fighting Trina now. She was fighting the past. Fighting to claim a future.

Jayson stepped to her side, breathing heavy.

"Gotta be careful."

Mia glanced at him and hissed.

"Look like I called her here and asked for a fight don't it?"

"Was just saying to be careful meant no harm."

She walked away without looking back.

The bitter sting of defeat still burned beneath Mia's skin as Trina retreated, her parting words like daggers left hanging in the cold air. Mia's chest heaved with ragged breaths, her lungs aching, but her mind raced through memories she thought were long buried memories sharper and darker than any blade.

Years ago, a younger Mia had stood beneath towering pines in the woods behind their childhood home. The ground was cold and damp beneath her knees. Dirt caked her fingers, tears blurred her vision. Trina's voice had cut through the stillness like a whip relentless and cruel.

"No one wants you here. You're just a bastard of a being that wasn't meant to be born"

Mia's small hands had clenched the earth, swallowing the sobs that threatened to break free. She had learned early to fight silently. To hide behind a mask of fire and fury, lest she be crushed. But whenever she fought Trina back as a child she got punished by the Alpha or Luna Cara.

Now, as Trina's sneer burned into her, the old wounds throbbed anew. But this time, Mia was no longer the frightened girl who could only weep and endure.

Trina returned again. She had never gotten satisfaction from leaving an intimidation fight halfway.

"You should learn your place, Clinton," Trina spat, stepping closer, eyes glittering with venom.

Mia's gaze held steady, fierce as steel. "Maybe I'm exactly where I'm meant to be."

The crowd around them shifted, whispers curling like smoke. The air thickened with tension, every heartbeat pounding in Mia's ears.

Then a sharp voice cut through the silence.

"Oligario."

From the shadowed edge of the training yard, a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped forward Oligario. His eyes, cold and unforgiving, locked on Mia with unmistakable disdain. His hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, the blade gleaming like a predator's fang.

Mia felt her heart drop into her stomach. Memories of Oligario's presence during her childhood flooded back, always looming, always watching, always siding with Trina.

Flashback

In the very woods where she now faced Trina, a younger Mia had found herself cornered beneath a sky dark with storm clouds. Oligario stood before her, his wooden practice sword pressed lightly against her shoulder.

"Stay out of her way," he warned, voice low and menacing.

Mia's eyes burned despite trembling and she screamt. "She's the one causing trouble."

Oligario's laugh was cold and empty. "You'll learn."

Back in the present, Oligario's hand tightened on his sword's hilt, ready to strike.

"You're making a mistake," he growled, his voice heavy with threat.

Mia met his gaze without a flicker of fear. "I don't know what you're talking about."

His fingers brushed the blade free with a flash of silver but before the sword could fully draw, a booming command stopped him.

"Enough!"

The general strode between them, authority radiating in every step. His sharp eyes swept over the gathering crowd like a hawk watching prey.

"This isn't the place for blood feuds," he said, voice cold and final. "Oligario, sheath your sword. My Lady Trina please step back."

Oligario hesitated, his glare darkening, but he obeyed, sliding the blade back into its scabbard with a reluctant grunt.

Trina's lips curled into a mocking smile as she withdrew, but her eyes never left Mia's.

Mia exhaled slowly, but she knew one way or the other she had to get closer to Trina.

That night, the camp lay under a blanket of stars as Mia retreated to the edge of the training grounds. The cold seeped through her cloak, but the chill inside her was sharper, gnawing at her resolve.

She sank onto a rough-hewn log, muscles aching and spirit bruised.

Jayson appeared silently beside her, his presence warm and steady.

He shifted closer, voice low. "Why do you fight so hard?"

She didn't answer immediately, eyes fixed on the distant stars. Then, voice barely above a whisper, she said, "Because I want to duhh."

Her thoughts drifted to her mother and Jessie's fierce face, the sacrifices made in silence.

It was a new morning and the First fight was to begin