The sun didn't rise at Obsidian Crest; it bled over the jagged peaks, staining the snow a bruised purple.
I hadn't slept. Not really. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the snap of the bond again. I felt Logan's sneer and the cold marble of the ballroom floor. But when I opened them, I was surrounded by the scent of cedar and the heavy, black walls of a predator's den.
A sharp, rhythmic thud echoed from outside my door.
I sat up, pulling the Black Alpha's shirt tighter around my thighs. The fabric was coarse but warm, smelling of woodsmoke and a lingering, masculine spice that made my stomach flip in a way it never had for Logan.
The door swung open without a knock.
The Black Alpha stood there. He had discarded his tactical vest, wearing only a thin black henley that left nothing to the imagination regarding the lethal architecture of his chest. His hair was damp, as if he'd already been out in the frost.
"Up," he said. His voice was a low vibration that seemed to command the very air in the room. "The sun is up. You're burning daylight."
"I don't even have shoes," I snapped, my voice raspy from the night's cold.
He didn't argue. He tossed a pair of soft, fur-lined leather boots and a set of dark tunics onto the bed. "Five minutes. The training grounds. Don't make me come back for you."
He vanished before I could throw a pillow at his retreating back.
The Proving Ground
Five minutes later, I stepped out onto a wide, flat plateau of packed earth overlooking the valley. The wind up here was a razor, slicing through the layers of clothes I'd scrambled to put on.
A dozen warriors were already there, sparred in pairs. The sound of flesh hitting flesh and the low growls of shifting wolves filled the air. They stopped when I approached, their eyes yellow, blue, and grey tracking me with a hunger that made my skin crawl.
The Black Alpha was standing in the center of the ring, a heavy wooden staff in his hand.
"She's small, Alpha," one of the warriors barked, a man with a jagged scar running from his ear to his jaw. "You sure the 'howl' wasn't just a trick of the wind?"
The Black Alpha didn't look at him. His eyes were fixed on me. "Aria. Come here."
I walked into the circle, my heart hammering. I felt like a lamb stepping into a den of lions.
"You want revenge," he said, his voice carrying over the wind. It wasn't a question.
"You want to go back to the Silver Moon and watch Logan Blackwood crawl at your feet."
The mention of his name was like a spark in a powder keg. My vision flickered silver for a micro-second. "I want to destroy him."
"Then show me," the Black Alpha said. He tossed the wooden staff at me. I caught it, the weight nearly pulling me over. "Hit me."
I blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. You have the Primal inside you, but you're piloting her like a child. If you can't draw out her strength in this skin, you'll never control her in the other. Hit. Me."
I tightened my grip on the wood. I'd never fought. I was a Luna-to-be; I was taught to host galas and manage the pack's healers. I stepped forward and swung the staff.
He didn't even move his feet. He simply tilted his head, the staff whistling past his ear.
"Slow," he hissed.
I swung again, a horizontal strike. He caught the staff with one hand, his grip like iron. He yanked it forward, sending me stumbling toward him. Before I could recover, his other hand was around my throat not squeezing, but firm.
He pulled me flush against his chest. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the hard planes of his stomach pressing into mine.
"Logan Blackwood didn't reject you because you were wolf-less," he whispered into my ear, his breath a scorching contrast to the mountain air. "He rejected you because he's a coward. He sensed a power he couldn't control, and he tried to kill it before it woke up. Are you going to prove him right?"
Anger, hot and oily, boiled up from my gut. My skin began to itch.
"Let. Go," I growled.
"Make me."
I didn't think. I reacted. I dropped the staff and slammed my palm into his chest not a human strike, but a thrust backed by the silver fire I'd felt on the cliff.
BOOM.
A shockwave of white light erupted from my hand. The Black Alpha was thrown back ten feet, his boots skidding through the dirt as he fought for balance.
The training ground went dead silent. The warriors stared, their mouths agape.
The Black Alpha stood up, brushing a smudge of silver dust from his shirt. A slow, terrifyingly beautiful smile spread across his face. It wasn't the smile of a savior. It was the smile of a man who had finally found a blade sharp enough to match his own.
"Better," he said. He walked back toward me, his abyssal eyes glowing with an unholy light. "My name is Gabriel, Aria. And that was your first lesson."
He stopped inches from me, the air between us thick enough to choke on.
"The second lesson," Gabriel said, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear, "is that power always demands a price.
And today, the price is your blood. Again."
He turned to his warriors. "Kael! Spar with her. No mercy. If she bleeds, let her bleed. A Goddess needs to remember what it feels like to be mortal before she can rule."
I watched him walk away, my hand still tingling from the blast. My heart was thundering, a chaotic mix of fear and an intoxicating, dark attraction.
Gabriel. The name felt like a brand on my soul. He was a monster, but he was a monster who looked at me and saw a Queen.
I turned to the scarred warrior, Kael, who was grinning as he cracked his knuckles. I raised my fists, the silver light humming beneath my fingernails.
Let me bleed, I thought. Every drop is one less thing I owe the Silver Moon.