POV: Aira Moonstone
The morning air was sharp with dew, the field behind the Silverstone Packhouse stretching wide beneath the rising sun. Aira stood alone on the edge, tying her shoelaces, her worn-out hoodie clinging to her frame in the chill.
No one greeted her.
Not that she expected it.
Jack passed by with his friends—Alex and Maicha—laughing about some party from last night. His eyes slid right over her like she was part of the ground.
She swallowed the ache in her chest and focused on her stretches.
You're not here for them. You're here for yourself.
The rest of the trainees gathered in groups. Warriors, heirs, future leaders. She stood alone. Just like always.
Then, he arrived.
Asher Thorne.
His presence was like gravity shifting. Broad shoulders, sharp eyes, dominance in every step. His gaze swept over the field… and paused.
On her.
Aira looked down quickly, pretending not to notice, but her skin tingled where his eyes had rested. Her wolf stirred uneasily under her skin, wanting to be acknowledged.
Don't be stupid, she scolded herself. He doesn't see you. No one does.
"Pair off!" barked Gamma Cedric, striding into the centre of the field.
Everyone fell into line.
Then he started calling names.
"Alex with Maicha. Jack with Darren. Thorne—wait for the next round. And… Aira Moonstone… you're with Irene."
Laughter bubbled through the crowd.
Aira's stomach twisted.
Irene.
The perfect little future Luna-in-her-dreams. Long blond hair, flawless nails, and a mouth full of venom.
She strutted toward Aira like she was walking a runway.
"Try not to cry, Omega," she whispered, smirking. "You bruise like fruit."
Asher, still standing on the sidelines, heard that.His eyes narrowed.
His wolf growled:
"Don't let her talk to my girl like that."
Asher shook his head.
"She's not my girl. She's just… an omega."
But he couldn't stop watching.
The circle cleared. It was time.
Irene rolled her neck with a theatrical sigh, clearly expecting an easy win.Aira stood still, her stance light, quiet, unreadable.
"Begin!" Cedric barked.
Irene lunged first, claws barely held back, aiming for intimidation.
Aira sidestepped smoothly, letting Irene's momentum carry her forward. She spun lightly and landed a clean strike to the ribs.
Gasps broke out.
Irene stumbled, glaring.
"Lucky hit."
She charged again, faster—but sloppy now, angry.
Aira ducked, dropped low, and swept Irene's legs out from under her with one fluid motion.
Irene hit the ground hard. The thud echoed.
Cedric raised a brow.
"Winner: Aira."
Silence.
Then whispers. Shocked stares.
Aira just stood there, heart racing but face blank.
She didn't gloat. She didn't smile.
She simply turned and walked back to her corner.
Asher couldn't take his eyes off her.
His wolf was panting in his head, pacing with pride.
"My girl. My mate. Mine."
"She's still just an omega," Asher told himself.
But the words felt hollow now.
Because no omega fought like that.
Irene stood slowly, fury and disbelief written across her flawless face. She scanned the faces around her—no one laughed with her this time. They were looking at Aira.
Some with awe.
Some with doubt.
But they were looking.
And she couldn't stand it.
Her nails dug into her palm.
You want attention, Omega? Fine. You'll have it.Let's see how strong you look… when I'm done with you.
Aira wiped the sweat from her brow as she packed up her bag. Her shoulders ached, but inside… something glowed quietly.
She didn't just survive.Today, she won.
But she didn't see the storm in Irene's eyes as they headed to school.
Not yet.