By the time I reached Lysandra's hut, the lamps were lit.
She looked up from her work as I stepped inside.
"You're early."
"I listened to you."
"That usually means something frightened you."
I tried to smile.
It didn't last.
Lysandra set down her spoon.
"Elara?"
So I told her the part I had kept to myself that morning.
My wolf's silence. The smell of smoke in the clearing. The sudden fear that hadn't belonged entirely to me.
She listened without interrupting, then asked me to sit beside the hearth.
"Can you still feel her?"
"Yes. But she won't answer."
"Has that happened before?"
"Not like this."
Lysandra watched me for a moment.
"Don't try to force her tonight."
"What if something's wrong?"
"Then exhausting yourself won't help us understand it."
She placed a warm cup between my hands.
I wanted her to promise that everything was fine.
Instead, she sat beside me while I drank.
For that evening, it had to be enough.
---
The summons came the following morning.
Everyone entering the tournament was to gather in the courtyard before beginning their duties.
I arrived near the back of the crowd, still turning Lysandra's questions over in my mind.
My wolf remained quiet.
The fear had faded, but her silence had begun to feel like an empty chair at a table where someone should have been sitting.
You're going to miss something interesting, I told her.
Nothing.
Ahead of me, Callen leaned toward Keiran and said something that earned him a flat look.
That, at least, was familiar.
I almost smiled.
Then Beta Garrick stepped onto the raised platform.
"Listen carefully. There have been changes to the tournament arrangements."
Conversations quieted.
"The competition will now have two divisions. Solo combat and paired combat."
A murmur moved through the courtyard.
"The solo division will test individual ability. The paired division will test coordination and teamwork. Existing registrations have been reviewed, and your division will be announced this morning."
Beside the platform, an attendant uncovered a board.
Rows of names filled the parchment pinned to it.
"All bouts will be supervised," Garrick continued. "A surrender ends the match. So does a referee's intervention. Anyone who continues an attack after either will be disqualified."
His gaze swept over us.
"This is a tournament. Remember that."
Names followed.
Some wolves cheered when they heard their partners. Others immediately began arguing about whether they should have been assigned someone else.
Callen and Keiran were placed together.
Callen looked delighted.
Keiran looked as though he had just been given extra work.
Then Garrick began reading the solo entrants.
"Maera Linton."
A few voices called encouragement.
Maera stood near the front, straight-backed and composed, her hair braided neatly away from her face.
"Elara Hale."
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
Several heads turned.
I kept my eyes on the platform.
My name had been on the registration list. Hearing it spoken aloud should not have felt so different.
But it did.
There was nowhere to hide inside it now.
I was going to step into a ring alone.
Across the courtyard, Maera looked over her shoulder.
Our eyes met.
She smiled.
I wished she hadn't.
---
Mira already knew by the time I reached the hut.
"Solo?"
"Apparently."
She handed me a basket of dried leaves.
"How do you feel?"
"Like withdrawing would require considerably less effort."
"But?"
I took the basket.
"But I'm not going to."
"Good."
Lysandra glanced up from a patient's bandaged wrist.
"We'll discuss sensible training after I'm finished here."
I nodded.
For most of the morning, there was little time to think about the tournament.
A child had fallen from a wall. An older warrior had ignored an injury until his shoulder stiffened. Someone arrived insisting that a rash was definitely a curse.
Lysandra examined it.
"New washing soap?"
The man hesitated.
Mira turned away before he could see her smile.
Ordinary things.
I held on to them.
By the time my work was done, the knot in my stomach had loosened enough for me to eat.
Lysandra allowed me a short practice session, provided I stayed near the barracks and returned well before sunset.
"No chasing whatever happened yesterday," she added.
"I'm training. That's all."
"And if your wolf becomes distressed?"
"I leave."
She studied me, then nodded.
---
The clearing looked harmless in daylight.
I left my bag beside the fallen log and stood for a moment, listening.
Training weapons clattered faintly in the distance.
Birds moved overhead.
There was no smell of smoke.
I began slowly.
Footwork first. Then turns, blocks, and the careful changes in balance Keiran had shown me.
I tried not to imagine the courtyard watching.
Or Maera's smile.
After several repetitions, I finally completed a sequence without stumbling.
I lowered the wooden sword, breathing hard.
Someone clapped.
Three slow strikes of palm against palm.
"How impressive."
Maera stood at the edge of the clearing.
Two girls flanked her, both familiar from the groups she moved through around the pack grounds.
I hadn't heard them approach.
One carried a training sword loosely at her side.
The other was smiling.
My grip tightened.
"Do you need something?"
Maera glanced at the leaning practice post.
"So this is where you do it."
"Do what?"
"Convince yourself you belong in the tournament."
I looked toward the path.
One of the girls moved a little farther into it.
Not enough to be obvious.
Enough that I noticed.
"I was just finishing," I said.
"Then we won't keep you long."
Maera stepped closer.
I could see how carefully she had arranged herself—relaxed shoulders, pleasant expression, hands resting at her sides.
If someone had passed the clearing, we might have looked like friends talking.
"I heard your name this morning," she said.
"So did everyone else."
The girl holding the sword laughed under her breath.
Maera's smile thinned.
"You've become rather confident lately."
"No. Just busy."
"With Keiran?"
I said nothing.
"There it is." Her gaze sharpened. "You always do that when someone mentions him."
"Do what?"
"Act as though silence makes you innocent."
I wanted to tell her there was nothing to be innocent of.
Instead, I bent toward my bag.
The second girl reached it first.
She lifted it by the strap and tipped it upside down.
My water bottle struck the ground.
A folded cloth followed, then the small piece of bread Mira had wrapped for me.
For a moment, all I could do was stare.
"Pick it up," I said.
The girl looked at Maera.
Then she laughed.
I stepped toward her.
Maera caught my arm.
"Careful."
I pulled free.
"Don't touch me."
Her expression changed.
Only slightly.
But the pretence was gone.
---
"You think because he's trained with you, it means something."
Maera's voice had dropped.
I kept the wooden sword lowered, though every part of me wanted to raise it.
"I haven't said anything about him."
"You don't have to."
She moved closer.
"The looks. Following him around. Letting everyone talk about that ridiculous spar."
"I don't control what people say."
"No. You just enjoy it."
The girl on my left stepped behind me.
I moved before she could settle there, putting the practice post at my back.
Keiran had taught me to watch where an opponent's weight shifted.
He had not taught me how to watch three people at once.
"I'm leaving," I said.
Maera shoved me.
I struck the post hard enough to jar my shoulder.
Pain flashed down my arm.
"Then leave."
The path remained blocked.
I looked from one girl to the other.
Maera followed my gaze.
"What's wrong?"
I should have shouted.
The barracks weren't far. There were warriors nearby.
But some old, miserable part of me still believed that making a scene would be worse.
That if anyone came, I would have to explain why three ranked girls had cornered me.
Why there was trouble wherever I stood.
The girl with the training sword swung first.
I caught the strike on mine.
The impact stung my palms.
Surprise crossed her face.
I pushed her blade aside and turned toward the opening she had left.
Fingers caught my hair.
My head snapped back.
I cried out before I could stop myself.
Maera drove her forearm into my chest, knocking me off balance. I stumbled, and someone hooked a foot behind my ankle.
The ground hit hard.
For a second, there was no air in me.
I tried to roll away.
A boot came down on my wrist.
My fingers opened.
The wooden sword was pulled from my hand.
"Not so impressive now," someone said.
I reached inward.
Please.
My wolf stirred.
Distant. Confused.
Then pain struck beneath my ribs, and whatever response I might have felt vanished beneath it.
I curled onto my side.
"Get up," Maera said.
I pressed a hand into the dirt.
Before I could rise, she caught the front of my shirt and dragged me high enough to face her.
"I've spent years beside him."
Her breath was warm against my cheek.
"Years. And you think a bond means you can walk in and take everything?"
I stared at her.
So there it was.
Not the tournament.
Not my training.
Something she had been carrying long before I entered the clearing.
"He isn't something you own."
The slap turned my head.
My lip struck my teeth.
For a moment, I tasted nothing but blood.
Maera was breathing harder now.
"At the tournament, everyone will see exactly what you are."
She tightened her grip.
"If I get you in that ring, I'll beat you until you beg him to reject you."
My stomach went cold.
"And if he won't?" she continued. "You can reject him. I don't care which of you breaks that bond, as long as it's broken."
I knew a bruise could not sever a mate bond.
That wasn't what she meant.
She wanted pain to make the choice for me.
Behind her, one of the girls glanced toward the path.
"Maera. Someone might come."
Maera held my gaze a moment longer.
Then she released me.
I fell back onto one elbow.
"Practice harder," she said.
Their footsteps retreated through the trees.
I stayed where I was until I could no longer hear them.
---
Getting up took three attempts.
On the first, my wrist gave way.
On the second, pain caught beneath my ribs so sharply that I had to stop and breathe through it.
The third time, I used the log.
I stood bent over it, trembling.
The clearing had become horribly ordinary again.
My sword lay near the post.
The bread was in the dirt.
I stared at it for too long.
Mira had wrapped it because she thought I might be hungry.
That small kindness nearly broke me more completely than anything Maera had said.
I gathered what I could.
Then I started toward the hut.
Every few steps, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
The blood kept coming.
---
Mira was outside bringing in clean linen.
She saw me before I reached the door.
"Elara?"
I tried to answer.
Her basket fell.
She crossed the distance between us so quickly that I flinched when she reached for me.
Mira stopped.
Her hands hovered in the space between us.
"Elara," she said again, much more quietly. "It's me."
I knew that.
I knew.
But my body had not caught up.
"I'm sorry."
Her face changed.
"For what?"
I couldn't have told her.
The blood. The linen on the ground. Arriving like this.
All of it.
"Lysandra!"
The door opened.
Lysandra took one look at me.
"Inside."
Mira offered her arm this time.
I took it.
---
The examination table felt too high.
Lysandra and Mira helped me onto it, and the movement pulled a small, humiliating sound from my throat.
"Where?" Lysandra asked immediately.
"My side."
"Which side?"
I pointed.
She nodded and brought a lamp closer.
"Mira, clean water. The soft cloths."
They moved with a steadiness I couldn't find.
Lysandra checked my eyes, then the swelling along my cheek.
"Did you lose consciousness?"
"No."
"Any dizziness? Nausea?"
"A little dizzy."
"Did you strike your head when you fell?"
"I don't think so."
She cleaned my split lip.
I flinched.
"I know," she murmured. "Nearly done."
Her fingers examined my wrist next, careful and precise.
"Can you move these?"
I moved my fingers.
"Good. Tell me if the pain changes."
When she reached my ribs, my breath caught.
"Here?"
I nodded.
"Anywhere else?"
"My shoulder."
"Your back?"
"A little."
She waited until I looked at her.
"You aren't inconveniencing me by being hurt. Tell me every place."
Something in my face must have changed, because her voice softened further.
"All of them, Elara."
So I did.
Mira stood beside me holding a clean cloth.
Her eyes shone.
I looked away before mine could do the same.
---
"Who did this?"
Lysandra asked while wrapping my wrist.
I watched the bandage pass around it.
For a moment, the clearing returned.
Maera's hand in my shirt.
You can reject him.
"Elara."
"Maera."
Mira went still.
"And two girls who came with her," I added.
Lysandra's hands paused.
Then she finished securing the bandage.
"What happened?"
I told her in pieces.
The path. My bag. The shove.
At the mention of Keiran, my voice faltered.
Lysandra waited.
"She said she'd hurt me in the tournament until one of us broke the bond."
The room became very quiet.
Mira set the cloth down with exaggerated care.
Lysandra drew the blanket over my knees.
"You will not be going back to that clearing alone."
I nodded.
"And this will be reported."
Fear tightened in my chest.
"She'll say I started it."
"Then she can say it while I describe your injuries."
I looked at her.
There was no hesitation in her face.
No question about whether I had misunderstood.
I lowered my head.
"I tried to leave."
"I believe you."
The tears came then.
Quietly at first.
I wiped at them with my uninjured hand, angry at myself for starting when the worst was already over.
Mira pulled a chair closer.
"You don't have to stop," she whispered.
That made it worse.
---
Lysandra went to prepare something for the pain, remaining within sight near the hearth.
Mira stayed beside me.
After a while, she said, "Maera is my sister."
I lifted my head.
"What?"
"My half sister. We have the same father."
I stared at her.
There were small similarities now that I knew to look for them.
The shape of their eyes.
Something in the line of the jaw.
"I didn't know."
"Most people don't. Maera prefers it that way."
Mira looked down at her hands.
"My mother is the woman people call his mistress."
I didn't know what to say.
"I grew up hearing it," she continued. "Usually when they thought I couldn't understand. Then, eventually, when they stopped caring whether I could."
"Mira…"
"Maera heard it too. She decided it explained everything she needed to know about me."
Her mouth tightened.
"She's never forgiven me for being born."
I remembered the way Maera spoke about bloodlines.
About belonging.
"Does she hurt you?"
"Mostly with words." Mira hesitated. "Sometimes she finds other ways. Making certain I'm excluded. Telling people things before they've had the chance to know me."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted you to know me first."
The answer hurt.
Not because she had kept it from me.
Because I understood it.
"I'm not proud of being her sister," she said. "But I'm tired of feeling ashamed of something I didn't choose."
"You shouldn't be."
She gave me a small, sad smile.
"Neither should you."
---
Lysandra returned with a cup and instructions.
Drink slowly.
Stay seated.
Tell her immediately if breathing became harder or the dizziness worsened.
I obeyed.
Mira retrieved my bag and began cleaning the dirt from it.
"You don't have to do that," I said.
"I know."
She kept going.
Lysandra checked the bandage on my wrist again, though it hadn't moved.
Mira placed fresh bread beside my cup.
Neither behaved as though caring for me required an explanation.
I had spent so long measuring my place in Silvercrest by what I could carry, clean, or endure that I didn't know what to do with kindness when I had nothing to offer in return.
Here I was, bleeding on their examination table.
Unable to work.
Unable even to hold the cup without both hands.
And they stayed.
"Thank you," I whispered.
Mira looked up.
Lysandra rested a hand briefly against my uninjured shoulder.
"Rest now."
For once, I didn't argue.
I leaned back against the cushion Mira had placed behind me and let them fuss.
The tournament could wait.
So could Keiran, and Maera, and all the questions I still couldn't answer.
For a little while, I allowed myself to be someone worth looking after.
And when Mira pulled her chair closer, I reached for her hand.