Page 43 of Iron Beneath the Snow

No one marked the moment with ritual.

Nothing in the space asked to be witnessed.

They trained because it was expected.

And because it was necessary.

Eira stopped at the edge of the training yard, folding her arms loosely across her chest as she took in the movement below.

No one announced her presence, yet the awareness of her spread through the space in subtle waves. A few wolves glanced in her direction, their attention brief but deliberate, measuring rather than reactive.

Then the rhythm of the yard reasserted itself.

Soren stood near the center, not set apart and not elevated, but moving among them as if he belonged within the flow rather than above it. His strikes were economical, stripped of anything unnecessary. When one of the warriors overextended, Soren disarmed him in a sequence so controlled it felt inevitable, then returned the blade without comment or humiliation.

“Again,” he said.

He didn’t raise his voice, but the expectation in it was unmistakable.

The other wolf nodded and reset his stance immediately.

Eira found herself watching not the exchange of blows, but the faces around him.

There was no fear in them, and no reverence either. What she saw instead was something quieter and more difficult to define—a kind of alignment that did not need to be enforced in every moment.

Frostvein had built discipline on sanctity and fear.

Here, it seemed to rest on competence.

Soren did not look at her, but she knew the moment he became aware of her presence. It showed not in a glance, but in the way his movements tightened—more precise, more contained.

After several rotations, he passed his weapon to another wolf and stepped away, crossing the stone toward the edge.

Toward her.

“You’re awake early,” he said.

“The mountain made sure of it,” she replied.

Something shifted at the corner of his mouth, too restrained to be called amusement.

“It tends to do that,” he said. “There’s not much room here for comfort.”

“I noticed.”

He followed her gaze toward the sparring pairs.

“You expected something else?”

She considered the question before answering.

“More noise,” she said. “More need to be seen.”

“That works when you’re trying to prove something,” he replied. “We’re not.”

“And Ironfang isn’t?”

“It is,” he said, “but not to each other.”