The morning air was sharp with frost, and the sun hadn’t yet risen over the treetops. A thick mist curled across the Silverstone training grounds, blanketing the earth in a hush. Most of the pack was still asleep, but Eva was already moving.
She stood in the center of the clearing, her breath forming clouds as she exhaled, her palms wrapped in cloth stained with blood from yesterday’s training. She didn’t pause to stretch. She didn’t stop to rest. The pain in her muscles was familiar now—almost comforting. It reminded her she was still alive.
Again, she struck the training dummy with a fierce grunt, her arm snapping forward in a clean punch. The wood groaned under the pressure. Her knuckles throbbed, but she ignored it. Sweat dripped down her back as she moved into a flurry of kicks and strikes, her body fast and focused. Every movement had a purpose. Every bruise on her skin was earned.
She needed this.
Because when she was fighting, she didn’t have to think about the graves behind the packhouse. She didn’t have to remember the smell of blood on the walls and she didn’t have to feel the weight of a crown she never asked for.
She trained because rage burned in her chest like wildfire. And grief, always close behind, had become its own kind of weapon.
By the time the sun finally began to rise, her breathing was ragged. Her knuckles were raw again, blood soaking through the cloth. She staggered back, wiped her brow with the back of her arm, and leaned against the wooden post.
From the edge of the clearing, Tiana stepped out from behind the trees, arms folded across her chest and a frown on her face.
“You’ve been out here since before dawn,” Tiana said softly. “Again.”
Eva didn’t look at her. “I needed it.”
Tiana stepped closer, her boots crunching softly over the frost. “You know this isn’t how you heal, right?”
Eva let out a sharp breath. “Who says I’m trying to heal?”
Tiana tilted her head, studying her sister carefully. “You’re trying to fight the grief out of you. But that’s not how it works. You’ll still feel it. Even after the bruises fade.”
Eva finally looked at her, her expression guarded. “Then I’ll fight until I don’t feel anything at all.”
Tiana sighed and leaned against the post beside her. “You’re not alone, Eva. You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself.”
“I’m not,” Eva said. “I’m carrying it for them.”
Tiana didn’t reply to that. Instead, she glanced toward the main path where warriors were beginning to rise. Then, with a small smirk tugging at her lips, she said, “You know Max stared at you for five minutes straight today.”
Eva scoffed, grabbing her waterskin and taking a long drink. “I think he was trying to decide if I was a liability.”
“No,” Tiana said, grinning now. “He was watching you like you were about to set the ground on fire.”
Eva rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t trust me. That much is clear.”
“Maybe,” Tiana said slowly. “Or maybe he doesn’t trust himself around you.”
Eva turned away, tossing the waterskin aside. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not doing this for him.”
“I know,” Tiana whispered. “But part of you still wants him to look at you like you’re more than just a leader. More than the Alpha Queen.”
Eva’s hands clenched at her sides, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she went back to the dummy and raised her fists.
“Go get some sleep,” she said. “I’ll be in soon.”
Tiana hesitated, then turned away. “Don’t break your bones trying to prove something. You’ve already proven enough.”
Eva waited until she was alone again. Then she struck the dummy—hard, fast, over and over—until her arms burned and her legs trembled.
Unseen, from behind the trees, Max watched her.
He had come to the training grounds to speak with one of the guards about the increased rogue activity, but when he saw Eva, he stopped. And stayed. He stood in silence, hidden by the shadows, watching her movements with growing intensity.
She was faster than he remembered. Sharper. Her body moved like it had something to prove, like each blow was meant to silence the ghosts that haunted her.
And even when her fist bled, she didn’t stop.
Max’s hands curled into fists as he watched her strike again, her braid whipping behind her, her eyes narrowed with fierce determination.
He’d known grief. He’d seen warriors lose everything and fall apart under the weight of it.
But Eva wasn’t falling apart.
She was turning her pain into power.
Into fury.
Into fire.
And something about it unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
Still, as he stood in the shadows, watching the girl he once thought too soft for war become the queen who bled for her people, Max whispered under his breath:
“You’re not weak. You’re just scared of your strength.”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
Summary & Review: Comrade
