Chapter 16: The Iron and the Silk
The sun rose over Redpaveley with a blood-orange hue, casting long shadows across the training grounds of the Academy. Usually, the morning air was filled with the sounds of lazy chatter and students dragging their feet to class. But today was different. The news of the "City Summons" and Drayan's defiance had spread like wildfire.
I stood in the center of the courtyard, my black training shirt stretched tight across my broad shoulders and powerful muscles. I hadn't slept much; my mind was a tactical map of every entrance to the valley. Beside me stood Wolfie, her silver hair tied back, her eyes sharp and ready.
We weren't waiting for a teacher. We were waiting for the students.
"They're coming, Drayan," Wolfie whispered, looking at the gates.
"Let them come," I replied, my voice calm but carrying that new, lethal edge. "If the City thinks they can take this home from us, they need to see what happens when the Wolf and the Vampire don't just coexist—but fight as one."
As the students gathered—including a very quiet and bruised Marcus—I stepped forward. I didn't look like the "City Boy" they used to mock. I looked like a Lord.
"The High Council is coming for our marriage," I announced, my voice echoing off the stone walls. "They call it a violation of purity. I call it fear. They are afraid of what happens when we stop fighting each other and start looking at them. Today, we don't train for grades. We train for our lives."
The Romantic Training
I turned to Wolfie, reaching out to cup the back of her neck. In front of everyone, I pulled her forehead to mine. I didn't care about "mushiness" anymore; I wanted them to see that my strength came from her.
"Show them, wolfie," I murmured. "Show them why I gave up a throne for you."
The training session was intense. I didn't stay on the sidelines. I moved through the groups, correcting their form with a cold, vampire precision. But every few minutes, my eyes would find Wolfie. Whenever she successfully took down a larger opponent, I would catch her eye and give her a slow, possessive nod that made her cheeks flush with pride.
But the ""Husband mode" peaked when a city drone—a small, silver eye—was spotted hovering near the forest line. It was spying, recording our strength for the High Council.
I didn't use a weapon. I simply picked up a heavy training spear. The muscles in my arm coiled and snapped like a whip as I launched it. The spear pierced the drone mid-air, pinning it to a tree a hundred yards away.
I turned back to the crowd, my hand finding Wolfie's waist and pulling her firmly against my side. I looked directly into the camera of the fallen drone, knowing the Council was watching.
"This is my wife," I said to the empty air. "And this is my pack. Tell the City: the Prince is dead. The mate of wolf is waiting."