Vyra

Spring entered our world with a delicate vengeance.

The ground thawed, the sunlight beamed, and flowers awoke. Even with its warmth, weeks had gone by and the tension between our forced team only grew colder.

"Titus, be honest. Do you think I have a chance at making it through this trial?"

He paused mid-instruction. "You've made some progress. Not as much as a full Lycan would, but at least you can throw a punch without tripping over your own two feet."

"Be serious."

"I am being serious. Your skill level is growing, but you're not quite there. And you need to work on your social skills."

I reeled back, wholly offended. "Me?"

"The whole point of the second trial is to prove you can work well within a pack and protect your fellow Lycan. You have to connect with each of us to accomplish the task," he reminded me for what felt like the hundredth time.

My smile grew tight. "I'm trying. You think they make it easy?"

Titus did not have to follow where I pointed to know who I was talking about.

"It's not supposed to be easy. Look, in this trial two members of the pack will be chosen for you to save in a dire situation. You will need all of us to rescue them." he continued to press, "What if you have to save Lycan who've insulted you in the past? What if Mena gives you a shit attitude that day? Are you going to let it stop you from passing?"

"No." I answered begrudgingly.

"Right. We can curse at each other, hate each other, and damn near kill each other. It doesn't matter because at the end of the day, we're one."

A laugh nearly tumbled from my throat. Of course Titus believed in everything he was saying. He's never been on the other side of it.

"Except the Outcasts, right? Because I can't remember a time any of you cared whether I lived or died before this." My anger rose with every injustice brought to light. "The pack would leave us to burn."

Titus turned his head to Seren, who was currently sharpening a blade.

"Not all of us."

Our time was over. With a defeated humph, I started my tortuous walk to Mena.

She has supplied me with a fair share of bruises over the past month. Never a cut, never again.

I was about midway over to the sparring mat when I saw she was already preoccupied. With Seren. They were speaking near the collection of weapons.

Her hands were up in the air, waving around. Seren was pensive, his brows low above his eyes, his arms crossed. She began to pace before him wildly, back and forth. Whenever she would pause, leaving him space to respond, he would give a one-word answer I couldn't decipher.

It got her riled up again. Near the end of their spat, she was in tears. She barked something in his face, then stomped off the field. Seren then stared down at his feet, stressed.

It happened several times at our practices, where she would just flee angrily.

I wondered what they could possibly be fighting about so much. And if they were close friends like Seren said, it seemed like Titus would be just as emotional about whatever they were discussing. Whenever I asked Titus if he was concerned, he avoided the conversation.

So after long weeks of watching, I decided I was right in my initial assessment.

Mena was in love with Seren. Seren wished it was her that mated to him. They fought because it was likely his honor wouldn't let him continue to see her, even if he wanted nothing to do with me.

And Titus was somehow okay with being the second option? That part still seemed unlikely, but I was working out the kinks to my theory.

My attention stayed on Mena as Seren made his way over to me.

"We will spar together today." he hesitated, "Mena has other work to attend to."

Lies. "Alright."

I tightened the thin black leather straps that were meant to protect the skin of my knuckles. Slowing my breathing, I watched Seren's every move carefully as he settled himself before me.

I'd never sparred with him before. Our weapon lessons up until now had only been him explaining each function and showing me stances.

This was our future. My blood pounded like drums, moving river-fast within my veins. He seemed to have the same realization, his body going slack at the obvious panic I was emanating.

He was stronger than me. Much quicker than me. Taller than me, obviously. More skilled by a thousand suns. Strategic.

I lowered myself into a spread stance, distributing my weight evenly despite my shaking limbs. I let my hands fall to my sides, palms open as every Lycan match started.

I took my next breath slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. Show me just how quickly I will die.

Leaving him no time to consider me, I was the first to attack. Titus told me my strength was my height, and I used it to my advantage. My target was the strip of skin on his abdomen, where his uniform lifted to expose him.

My heart jumped when I made contact. That wasn't right. I shouldn't have even gotten close. I looked up at him, clashing with solid silver. He hadn't even tried to stop me.

My rage doubled. The feeling had been building since his lie. I bit into its bitter skin, letting its sickly sweet pulp fuel me.

"What are you doing?" I punched him again, this time in the center of his chest. It ripped the leather of my knuckles. "Fight me!"

He stood still as an oak tree, just staring at me. A fly pestering a bull. I beat into him with all of my strength, with the sides of my fists, my elbows, my metal tipped boots. I kicked and fought with every ounce of my being.

"I hate you!" I caught the side of his jaw. His head barely jostled, and my body ached. "I hate you."

My body gave up as I doubled over, dizzy and I was out of breath, and he was unscathed. My knuckles were ripped to shreds, and he looked as perfect as always.

I knew I had no chance. Now it dawned on me, in stunning, visceral clarity.

I dug my finger into his shielded chest, skin bloody and torn. I hope he saw every bit of destruction this little, one sided fight caused me. I hope it haunted his dreams.

"Fuck you. And fuck this! Fuck all of this."

"Are you done?" His voice was too gentle. Nausea clung to my throat.

Stupid, betraying, weak tears streamed down my face. "No!"

We were sitting at the dinner table. Seren made me go take a bath before to calm down, and I would never admit to him it was a good idea.

I was still angry and embarrassed and scared. Just less bloody.

He cleaned up as well, replacing leathers with a black silk blouse. It made his tan skin deeper, and his eyes luminous as moonlight. A couple buttons at the top were undone, showing curved collar bones and the top of his chest.

I pushed carrots drenched in balsamic around my plate. They made better company. I popped one into my mouth, chewing and ignoring the Alpha like a child. I knew it was immature, but I couldn't find it myself to make conversation after earlier today.

"What do you think about Mena?" Seren asked, breaking the silence.

I looked up from my plate, annoyed. Stabbing a potato and pretending it was another round object, I gritted my teeth.

The sad thing was, I did like Mena. She was inhibited and stood up for her opinions. She was smart, and loyal to the people she tolerated. She was able to wrangle both Seren and Titus when necessary. Mena didn't baby me, or treat me differently because I was fragile. It didn't matter that she hated me.

She was everything Seren could have wanted in the Pack's Luna.

"Having a consort is against the pack rules if you are mated. But I guess you have the power to make exceptions. It is interesting considering your deep devotion to honor and duty." I mentioned offhand, cutting myself a piece of meat and refusing to give him any attention. The metal made a screeching sound as it met the ceramic plate.

"What?" he sounded genuinely confused. And now, extremely pissed off. "I am not asking because of that. If you are going to pass the second trial, you need to try to get along with her. She's not like Cyrus. She just-"

I let out a sigh. How predictable. He was already making excuses for her.

"She's like you?" I interrupted, "Ignoring the Outcasts and quietly turning your nose up at us until we were right under you, causing problems?"

"Well no, considering I don't have a problem with Outcasts." he proudly stated, severing a piece of meat and placing it onto his tongue. "My problem lies with you, and you alone."

My fork fell from my hand to the floor, my entire body going numb.

"What?" I could barely hear my own voice."I'm sorry, I do not think I understand you right."

I needed an explanation for the absolute dizzying confession, or maybe the lie he just told. I need it now. He continued to casually eat, as if he didn't just uproot my world.

"You never asked."

"You never answer."

"Fine. Ask, and I'll answer."

"How do you feel about Outcasts?" I demanded, leaning forward.

He stopped eating, his jaw working as he probably sought a way to evade the question. Because that's all it was, a lie to throw me off.

"There are many answers to that single question. I will need you to be more specific."

My voice dropped low, nearly pleading. His answer could mean everything. "Seren."

I felt like I was going insane, and this was happening all too often. Like I was atop a frozen lake, thawing more rapidly than I could make it across. Every new truth that contradicted what I knew before made it more likely for me to drown.

Finally his eyes met mine. His tone was harsh, "Did I let your friends come into the castle to work? Did I ever torture you growing up? Did I encourage my friends to do the same? Do I call you by your true name?"

Everyone hated Outcasts, no matter how subtle. He was the fucking Alpha.

I prepared myself for his denial. "You called Petir Outcast and me Fracti. You said terrible things about my-"

He spoke over me, "That is not the point. The point is my actions are what is real. Words are simply there to cater to the human soul within us all."

None of this mattered. It was all flowers and perfume to mask whatever truth he did not want me to uncover. I could tell I was getting closer and closer, as the usually collected Alpha squirmed under my scrutiny.

"Fine, forget that I am one if your issue is with me alone. How do you feel about the idea of Outcasts on a moral basis?"

That seemed to be exactly the right question. Or wrong, for Seren's sake. He went still, as caught in a trap. His long fingers tapped the wooden table underneath us, stalling.

A smile spread across my face, not for long. Shock made it fall to the floor.

"I find it abhorrent. I would do away with it if I could rewrite the law in a day." He said quickly, taking a large sip of wine as if to wash away the words from his mouth.

Easily, he spouted blasphemous rhetoric.

If he would have said this in front of the Pack, he would have been challenged. He could have been hated, called a traitor to the Lycan. It was one of the highest crimes, to speak out against our ancient laws and traditions, without the approval of the council.

And how? How when his father was the harshest to the Outcasts than any Alpha before? He ordered the death of all the adult Outcasts that were among our ranks, after he dealt with the moon clan.

So why didn't his son?

"Seren, do you understand what you're saying? What it means?" I sounded frantic, even to my own ears.

I couldn't believe what he was saying. I couldn't believe who was saying it. I never expected this.

There were people who hated us, and people who did not care. Some were sympathetic, though not enough to make change. There wasn't anyone who saw us as equal, or so I thought.

He studied me from across the table, his fingers carefully playing with the stem of his glass. He saw how much this meant to me, I know he did.

Seren displayed a large mocking smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "It lacks logic. Why waste perfectfully fit Lycan that can be used in our armies? It is a waste."

The silence lingered. We continued our contest, unable to look away.

"You're being horrible and cruel." I said, and he relaxed. I let him get comfortable, before twisting the knife deeper. "For some reason I don't believe it. I will figure you out, Seren."

His body went tense again, frozen. His smile grew tight, lacking its previous arrogance as he toasted to me with his drink.

"Pray to the gods you don't," he downed the rest of his wine,"I will see you for the Tantulus tomorrow."

I was dismissed. I stood up from my seat, half of my plate untouched.

"Will you tell me what this occasion will be like?" I asked, trying my luck. Since he hated me, and not what I was, maybe he would answer.

But I had already taken too much from him tonight. He threw up his walls, and did everything to cast me away.

He leaned forward, menacing as possible.

Once again I. Didn't. Believe. It.

"Not a chance."