Soren's POV
Soren should have been dead.
Or at the very least, crawling in the mud, begging for a healer's touch.
Everyone in the arena had seen the horrific mace strike crush into his leg. They had seen him limp with every step on his way home. For that same man to now stand upright, as if nothing had happened, was impossible.
And yet, impossibilities became ordinary wherever Fauna existed.
As he did after every healing, Soren summoned his daughter for gladiator training. In a world fed by wolf blood, leaving his child defenseless was no different from offering her to death.
When night fell and shadows thickened, they slipped into the forest.
"Fauna, come on. Training time."
"Father," she said softly, "can we work with Lunaire today? It's been so long since I let her run free."
Soren hesitated.
No one in the pack could truly connect with their wolves anymore. Since bowing to the witches eighteen years ago, the bond had gone silent. The wolves had chosen muteness over becoming pets of witches. Only in the arena—when the Arena Master activated those cursed seals to heighten the spectacle—were they forced to transform. Even then, the wolves did not answer. They obeyed, unleashed the violence needed to survive, and retreated back into the darkest corners of the soul.
Soren watched his daughter transform, as he always did, with quiet awe.
Fauna's fur was a pale silver-gray, nearly white like her hair. Her eyes burned in the darkness—two fierce shards of gold.
"Every day you grow more beautiful, Lunaire," he murmured.
A grateful rumble rose from the wolf's throat.
"Run," Soren said. "You need to warm up."
Lunaire slipped between the trees like the wind's own child. Not a leaf stirred. Not a branch cracked. When the run ended, playfulness vanished—replaced by lethal focus.
Soren launched the first attack.
But the girl before him was no longer the five-year-old child he had once trained. Fauna retreated with such fluid grace that an outsider might think she wasn't fighting at all—only performing a dance of death. A soft laugh escaped her, daring him.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Soren attacked until his lungs burned and he accepted the truth—he could not catch her.
"That's enough," Fauna said, shifting back into human form. "Admit it, Father. The apprentice has surpassed the master."
Soren bent forward, breathing hard. "Very well. Then let me see your attacks."
A sharp crack split the air.
Both of them froze.
From the shadows beyond the oak trees, a massive silhouette stood watching. A pair of golden eyes gleamed in the dark.
"Fauna," Soren snapped. "That's enough. We're going home. Now."
⸻
Fauna's POV
A week had passed since that strange night.
My father still lived in fear that someone would knock on our door and take me away. The air inside the house felt heavier than the freezing cold outside.
"Father, please," I said. "Let's at least go into the forest today. I'm suffocating in here."
"No, Fauna. If someone saw you that night, we need to find a way to disappear. But how?"
I turned to my mother, Selene, silently pleading.
"Mother, say something. If someone had really seen us, wouldn't they have come already? And weren't we all wolves once? Why should my wolf form frighten anyone?"
"Fauna…" Selene's voice trembled with both tenderness and sorrow.
"Your father is right. Our wolves turned away from us long ago. I'm not even sure newborns are born with wolves anymore. What you are… you are a miracle. And in this world, miracles belong only to witches. For people like us, a miracle is merely a target."
Soren spoke again, his face twisted with pain.
"And today is more dangerous than ever. Felix is dead. They will come to choose a replacement. The Arena Master will be in the pack."
I knew the rules, no matter how much they tried to shield me. When a fighter died, another was chosen. No one ever escaped the arena alive.
Anger surged through my veins.
"I'll go to the next match," I said, surprised by the certainty in my own voice.
"No!"
My father's shout was half roar. "I won't let you witness that slaughter!"
"Not to watch," I said, my eyes burning. "I need to see how those stones devour souls. Lunaire is whispering to me… There might be a way to destroy the arena from within.If you die there while I wait here, Father, then I'm already dead."
Soren stared at me, fear giving way to something far worse—realization.
In that moment, he understood for the first time that I was not merely a wolf.
Something ancient had begun to awaken inside me—
a fire even witches feared.