Chapter 32
Viona POV
One Month Later
The copper tang of blood clung to the air, thick enough to taste. I adjusted my grip on the twin blades strapped to my back, sweat dripping down my spine as I moved between the rows of sparring soldiers. Three months of hiding in plain sight. Three months of silent victories and close calls. And now... now my luck has finally run out.
"Vaughn, you're up next!" the commander barked.
I nodded, suppressing a wince. Vaughn. That was the name I answered to since the day I cut my braid, dirtied my face, and slipped into the ranks of the werewolf army disguised as a low-born recruit. I chose the name because it sounded enough like mine to anchor me, to keep me from forgetting why I was here.
But the moment I stepped into the sparring circle, the world shifted.
Eyes. Too many eyes.
Watching.
One of the generals—tall, scarred, with a silver streak running through his black hair—tilted his head. His nose flared. He stepped forward, slicing through the tension with a single word.
"Viona?" I froze.
My pulse, steady seconds ago, slammed into a panicked drumbeat. I gripped the hilt of my sword tighter, willing my voice to stay steady.
"Sir?"
His eyes narrowed. "Take off the helmet."
My breath caught. Around me, soldiers paused. Conversations stilled. The clinking of steel dulled. No one moved.
I hesitated for only a heartbeat—then reached up and tugged off the iron helmet. My sweat-slicked hair, now shoulder-length, fell around my face.
Gasps.
A few of the soldiers stepped back.
A female? Among the blood-trained werewolf ranks?
But it wasn't the other soldiers I watched. It was the general.
His eyes darkened—not with anger, but something else. Resignation.
"I told your mother this would happen," he muttered.
I blinked.
"...What?"
Another voice cut through the air. A deeper one. One I knew too well.
"At ease."
The soldiers snapped to attention.
From behind the general stepped a man dressed in midnight black armor, his aura coiled like smoke—calm, unreadable, yet deadly. His boots crunched the dirt as he stopped before me.
My mouth went dry. No.
No, it couldn't be. "Father?"
Alpha Jason of the Levites Pack nodded once.
I stared at him, the weight of realization smashing into my ribs like a hammer. "You knew."
He didn't answer right away. Just looked at me slowly—assessing not as a father, but as a commander. My stance. My now calloused hands. The tension in my shoulders.
"Three months ago," he said evenly, "I received word that a new recruit named Vaughn fought like a Ferelian assassin. Too precise. Too fast. I contacted your mother; I knew then."
"Why didn't you stop me?" My voice cracked, betraying the emotions I buried for weeks. "You let me live a lie—sleeping in barracks, training till my bones ached—"
"Because you needed to prove it to yourself," he said quietly. "That you could survive here. That you belonged here."
"But I do belong!" I snapped, fists clenched. "I earned everything. I outran them. Outfought them. Even the silver test—"
"You passed because you're my daughter; my blood flows through your veins," he said bluntly. "Not because they accepted you. They feared you. They just didn't know why."
Rage rose in my throat, hot and raw. "So what, this was just some—some cruel test to see if I'd break?"
"No," he said. "It was a test to see if you'd rise." The silence stretched.
"I never needed your permission," I muttered.
"No," he agreed. "But you always had my blessing." My breath hitched.
My dad sighed. "Your mother told me you'd do this. I saw the signs long before you cut your hair. The books you stole from the war library. The way you watched the guards train at night when you thought no one noticed."
My lips parted. "You saw all that?"
"I saw everything. Because I did the same when I was your age."
I looked away, fury ebbing into something heavier. "Then why pretend I had to sneak? Why let me live in fear of being caught?"
"Because this way, you owned your choice. You risked it. You bled for it. You earned what none of my orders could give you: their respect."
The general beside him nodded silently.
"I wouldn't have stepped in," my dad added, "if it weren't for today's change in command. A new warden is arriving. One who won't overlook a female in his ranks."
I exhaled slowly. "So that's it. I get thrown out."
"No," my dad said. "You get reassigned."
"What?"
"To me."
He gestured behind him. A pair of elite guards approached, wearing the colors of the Alpha's personal retinue.
"I need someone to lead the Nightfang unit. They've grown lazy. Undisciplined. You'll fix that."
"You want me to command?" I asked, voice thin with disbelief.
"You've been commanding since you walked into this camp," my dad said. "They just didn't know it."
For the first time in weeks, my shoulders slumped—not from defeat, but from the sheer release of tension. I had hidden my name. My face. My purpose.
But not my fire.
Never that.
And now the one person I tried hardest to defy... had been my quiet supporter all along. I looked up at my father.
"I'm not going to thank you," I said.
He gave me a smile. "I wouldn't believe you if you did."
Then, more seriously, he added, "But I am proud."
I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and nodded once, sharply.
The general stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Orders, Commander?"
I turned to him, my expression sharpening like a drawn blade.
"Have the Nightfang assembled by dusk. Tell them their new commander doesn't tolerate sloppiness."
"Yes, ma'am."
The soldiers who had once stared at me in disbelief now moved quickly—respectfully.
And as I slipped my helmet back on, I didn't feel like I was hiding anymore.
I felt seen.
I felt home.
Somewhere I had wanted to be for a long time, even in my previous life, but never got the chance because I was a girl and a Luna.
I commanded the Nightclaw unit for another month. In all this time, I kept in touch with my mom and siblings. Though I couldn't communicate with Aria due to distance, I saw her pretty face every time I called home. At this time, I didn't even suspect my mom had already sold me out months ago.
I didn't even have the heart to report; my dad had already exposed her a while ago. I watched them smile; it warmed my heart.
This is what I was fighting for: this smile and joy, something that was taken away from me before.
But I was still curious as to when and how my dad had known I was in the army. As I planned, he called me to his tent. Luckily, the battle was over, but the war had yet to begin.
Our victory raised praises from every pack alive; we have avenged the members that were massacred and killed unjustly.
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