Being thrown to the wolves is a death sentence.
Adalia knows that all too well, since she witnessed her own father being slaughtered in that same unmerciful way.
Living life as a meek slave in a kingdom full of royals, Adalia has no rights and is tr...
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Her eyes swirled with wonder as she watched with longing. From the view of the bedroom window, warriors that belonged to the pack trained. She didn't know what they were training for, but she could tell it was serious by the sheer intensity in which they danced with the blades they wielded.
So graceful male and female alike were. In every weapon they touched, it seemed to be a part of them. Some women had bows slung over their shoulders, standing side by side and eyes narrowed as they readied their arrows at targets.
With ease it seemed, their nimble fingers tugged the string, aiming their weapon of mass destruction at a target nailed onto a nearby tree. All at once, they unleashed their wrath, letting the arrows soar freely through the air.
Nearly every arrow was a bulls-eye.
Others gripped swords, knives, and spears, practicing their skill with the weapons.
Adalia watched as a man, large and well built, pulled a sword slowly from its sheath. He brought it up to his face, as if examining the sharpness of the blade. She caught sight of his jagged reflection staring back at him in the silver gleam of the weapon.
Suddenly, another man came up behind him, readying his own sword in a slashing motion. The two were suddenly caught in a fight, dancing and flaunting their moves to all who watched.
Some were engaged in hand to hand combat, others were in their wolf forms, practicing sprints and long-distance running. Some wore shirts, others didn't. Men fought women and women ran with the men, it didn't matter.
As an army, they were all one body. Every individual helped support the body and it was important that they did not discriminate, lest causing division which would lead to weakness brought about by hate. Each member had something to bring to the table, and each member realized their importance and strength in keeping the body healthy and strong.
Sweat glistened down the warrior's stern faces, and Adalia marveled at the way they could make their bodies sweat even in such bitter weather.
Seven days had gone by and Adalia just wanted to venture into the outside world. She longed to feel the gentle touch of the snowflakes upon her skin, the fresh chilliness of the air, and to explore the forests that seemed to be made of icicles. The snow on their branches was translucent, making the trees look like they were built from ice.
She never thought she would miss the cold, but she did. She had been cooped up inside for too long, now, and her curious nature was getting the best of her.
She felt stronger than she had in a long time, her wounds were scabbed over and she had managed to put on some weight. She looked healthier and happier, and she certainly felt better, too.
Even Maverick decided that she was ready.
She was snapped out of her daze when she felt a warm, large hand on her shoulder, and she turned her head to see Maverick behind her.
