Riley's POV
I wake early the next day, my body sore from trying to shift last night, my muscles aching with every small movement. The packhouse is silent, the tension thick in the air like a storm waiting to break, heavy and oppressive. I pull on my green fleece, the fabric soft against my skin, a small comfort in the chaos, and head downstairs, my boots quiet on the wooden floor, the steps creaking softly under my weight. The triplets are in the kitchen, eating cereal, their bowls clinking softly as they scoop spoonfuls, the sound sharp in the stillness. Silas looks up as I walk in, his blue eyes sharp, his jaw set, his black hair slightly messy from sleep. "You're up early," he says, his voice low, his spoon pausing over his bowl, his gaze steady on me.
"Couldn't sleep," I say, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet, the ceramic cool in my hands, my fingers brushing the smooth surface. I sit across from them, the quiet feeling heavy, pressing down on me like a weight I can't shake. Caleb pushes the milk toward me, his fingers brushing the table near mine, and my heart does a little skip, a warmth I don't expect spreading through me. I look down fast, pouring the milk, the splash loud in the silence, my hands trembling slightly as I try to focus on the simple task.
"We've got a plan," Ethan says, breaking the quiet, his voice steady, his blue eyes meeting mine across the table. "We're going after the rogues tonight. We can't keep waiting for them to attack us again."
My spoon freezes halfway to my mouth, milk dripping onto the table, a small puddle forming on the wood. "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice shaky, my heart starting to race, a cold knot forming in my stomach.
"They'll keep coming," Silas says, his voice hard, his eyes locked on me, unyielding and intense. "We need to show them we're not weak, that we can fight back, that we're not just going to sit here and wait for them to strike again."
"What about Lila?" I ask, my voice trembling, my hands gripping the bowl tightly, my knuckles whitening. "What if she didn't do it? What if you're wrong about her, and you're punishing her for nothing?"
They exchange looks, their faces blank, their blue eyes unreadable, a silent conversation passing between them. "We'll figure that out," Caleb says finally, his tone careful, his brows knitting together with concern. "But we can't wait. The rogues are getting bolder, and we need to act before they come for us again."
I don't like it, the uncertainty gnawing at me, but I nod, my stomach twisting with unease, my appetite gone. After breakfast, they take me back to the clearing for more training, the grass still wet from last night's dew, the air crisp and biting. They focus on teamwork this time, moving together, watching each other's backs, their movements sharp and coordinated, like a dance they've done a thousand times. Silas pairs with me, his punches quick, his eyes narrowed in focus, his breath visible in the cold air. "Eyes up," he says, dodging my swing, his voice sharp, his tone leaving no room for error. "You're too slow, Riley. You need to be faster if you're going to survive this."
"I'm trying," I snap, swinging again, my fist cutting through the air, my arm burning with the effort. He catches my wrist, pulling me close, his face inches from mine, his breath warm on my cheek, his blue eyes locked on mine, intense and unyielding. My breath catches, my heart pounding, a flush creeping up my neck.
"Do better," he says, letting go, his voice low, a challenge in his tone. I step back, my face hot, and keep going, my muscles burning with the effort, my determination hardening. Caleb and Ethan work nearby, their movements fluid, their laughter light as they spar, their voices carrying through the clearing, a contrast to Silas's intensity.
By evening, the pack gathers in the living room, the air thick with anticipation, Daniel giving orders, his voice steady and commanding, his presence filling the room. I stand near the triplets, my stomach in knots, my hands clenching at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. "You're staying here," Silas tells me, his voice firm, his hand on my shoulder, his grip steady but unyielding.
"No," I say, crossing my arms, my chin lifting, my voice steady despite the fear in my chest. "I'm coming with you. I'm not sitting here while you fight. I can help, and I want to be there."
"It's too dangerous," Caleb says, his eyes worried, his brows knitting together, his voice soft but urgent. "You're just starting to connect with your wolf. You're not ready for this."
"I don't care," I say, my voice firm, my resolve hardening, a fire igniting inside me. "I'm not hiding anymore. I'm done running from everything, my wolf, the danger, all of it. I'm coming with you."
They argue with me, their voices rising, their frustration clear, but I won't back down, my jaw set, my hands on my hips. Ethan sighs, running a hand through his black hair, the strands falling back into place. "Fine," he says, his tone resigned, a small smile tugging at his lips. "But you stay right with us. No wandering off."
That night, we move through the woods, the moon high above, casting silver light on the trees, the shadows long and jagged. The pack spreads out, their steps silent, their eyes sharp, their bodies tense with readiness. I stay between Caleb and Ethan, Silas leading the way, his broad shoulders tense, his movements purposeful. My heart pounds, my wolf stirring inside me, a restless energy I can't ignore, but I hold it back, my breath shallow, my hands trembling at my sides. We reach a clearing, the air still, the grass crunching softly underfoot, and Daniel signals for us to stop, his hand raised, his face set in a hard line. Then I see rogue wolves, their eyes glowing in the dark, their growls low and menacing, their fur bristling as they pace, waiting for us.
Before anyone can move, a voice cuts through the silence, sharp and cold, slicing through the tension like a blade. "You brought her," Jasper says, stepping out from the shadows, a smirk on his face, his dark hair glinting in the moonlight. My blood runs cold, my hands trembling at my sides, my breath catching in my throat. The rogues growl louder, their fur standing on end, their eyes locked on us, and the fight begins, the air exploding with snarls and movement, the battle crashing over us like a wave.