Today, though, they’re joined by Bonded who have come from the city, family members who are on leave or retired from the forces already. Both the nobles and Bonded will be attending this final Trial and tomorrow’s graduation ceremony.
The wolves are waiting for us already, and Anassa lifts her head high and meets my eyes as I approach her. Moving to her side, I run my hand along her fur, feeling the power of her muscles beneath my fingers.
The iron wall between us thins to almost nothing, turning translucent and soft.
I’ve been continuing to keep that wall up between us, and now she’s forcing it away. I’m not ready to forgive her. Not until she comes clean with me. But if we’re going to make it through this, we’ll need total connection—no hesitation, no holding back. Unity.
My gaze skirts the dirt floor of the arena, following the drains to where the grate is. To where, perhaps, that crown is. I haven’t had a chance to get in here since I found Stark’s book and I’m burning with curiosity.
But the grate is covered today. A raised stage has been erected in the middle of the arena, where Leader Aldrich stands with the other four instructors. Stark’s arms are folded over his chest, and his glower is on full-blast even at this early hour.
The second horn blares to signal the Unity Trial’s beginning. I look up just as King Cyril and Killian enter to sit at their usual dais. Killian catches my eye and nods. I nod back, warmth filling me.
Aldrich raises a voice amplifier to his mouth and begins to speak, the sound carrying clear across the arena. “Today’s Trial will simulate a coordinated Siphon assault on the castle. Daemos will play the role of the enemy forces, attacking from multiple positions. Phylax must maintain our defensive lines. Kryptos will relay critical intelligence. And Strategos must process all incoming information and coordinate the forces in real-time response.”
It’s what we’ve been training for. The stage on which the instructors stand will serve as the castle. The rest of the arena, the open battlefield. Plenty of space for maneuvering, whatever Daemos decides to do.
“As I’m sure your instructors have warned you, one misstep in your strategy, one break in your pack’s unity, and the defenses crumble,” Aldrich continues.
Frissons of awareness strike through my consciousness. Anassa is reaching out to the other wolves, making initial contact, readying herself for the stream of information she’ll have to control.
We’ll be leading this as the Alpha pair. It’s a good exercise for me—this is what it will feel like when I join the remainder of the Strategos forces at the front.
Flashes of information begin to flow from other riders, through their wolves, back to my bond. Terrain details, potential troop movements, tactical possibilities. Everyone is hummingwith nervous energy, though some of the emotions I glimpse lean more towards anticipation. I’d bet money that one of those is Tomison.
It should all be overwhelming, but I’ve gotten slowly more used to the outward expansion of my mind, reshaping myself to allow for a wider current. More information, less painful force. All of it washes over me faster than the human mind can process.
There is no thinking. Only knowing.
“The Trial ends when either Daemos breaches our final defenses or Strategos successfully coordinates a decisive victory,” Aldrich says. “But remember! This tests more than strategy. It tests your ability to think and act asone entity. It’s also one final chance for the wolves to minimize potential weaknesses—in their packs, or any others.”
The underlying meaning is clear. Anyone could die today.
The horn blasts again. And we begin.
The Daemos wolves immediately split into attack formations, wasting no time. Their movements are precise and threatening, a blade of dark fur slicing across the open arena.
I can’t waste time. Thereisno time with how fast they’re moving.
Through the pack bond, I can sense my packmates’ minds analyzing Daemos maneuvers and churning with possible counter-strategies, all offered up for my approval.
My eyes follow the split of Daemos, groups of wolves spreading out across the arena and then whipping back towards us. Anassa’s will delves into me like her fangs are dragging me up a cliff. It’s painful at first until I realize she’s pulling me in the right direction, and I let her influence guide me.
“Speak,” Anassa orders, her vicious intent clear. “Strategos leads, soyoulead.”
“Phylax, form a defensive line!” I shout over the thundering approach of a Daemos wolf. A wall of dark fur descends onus, and we have to meet it with our own force or it will crush us entirely. My mind is so focused on the battle that Anassa’s sudden turn beneath me doesn’t even startle me. My body moves with hers. “Kryptos! We need eyes on our flanks!”
The other packs move to comply instantly.
The river of the pack bond stills, like a stormy sea going entirely placid. I can see for miles. The full power of Strategos unity locks into place, and my consciousness expands, connecting me with every member of my pack.
It’s as though nineteen bolts of light have flashed across the battlefield, converging in my mind, carrying with them instantaneous knowledge.
Izabel calculates probable attack vectors while Tomison analyzes terrain advantages. Nevah is assessing the movements of Phylax to ensure they’re complying quickly enough with my order.
Then comes the impact. Daemos’s front line slams into the wall of Phylax in a flurry of fur and teeth. Sound erupts in the arena—shouts and clashing blades, pounding feet and the snarls and barks of the wolves.
From there, the true test begins.
