Althea woke to the sound of hushed voices and clanking metal. Dawn hadn’t fully risen yet—soft grey light pressed through the trees, still weak and sleepy. The air was cold enough that her breath formed tiny clouds.

  Rowan, already awake and wrapped in a thin blanket, noticed her stirring and pointed toward the center of camp. “Keal started morning drills early,” he whispered.

  Althea blinked the sleep from her eyes. “Early? It’s barely morning.”

  Rowan nodded knowingly. “That is morning for Keal.”

  Keal stood in the clearing, directing the omegas with short but sharp instructions. Their movements were clumsy, messy, and slow—but they were trying. Althea stood and joined them, stretching her arms. The energy of yesterday’s almost-success still buzzed faintly under her skin, like a spark waiting to be fed.

  “You look more awake today,” Keal commented when she approached.

  “I’d look awake too if I never slept,” she grumbled.

  “I slept,” Keal answered calmly.

  Rowan whispered, “He meditated with his eyes open again.”

  Althea raised a brow. “That’s not sleeping.”

  Keal ignored them both. “You’ll be practicing again. Barriers. But also movement. You rely too much on standing still.”

  “Because the barrier explodes every time I don’t,” she reminded him.

  “Exactly.”

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  Althea sighed. “Oh joy.”

  The first exercise was simple: dodging. Or rather, supposed to be simple.

  Keal tossed light wooden rings at her—nothing painful, just fast. Althea dodged the first three, but the fourth hit her forehead with a soft thok.

  “Ow!”

  “You hesitated,” Keal said.

  “I flinched!”

  “Same problem.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “So you’re saying my face is too expressive?”

  “Yes.”

  Rowan giggled. Lyssa tried to hold back a smile and failed.

  Despite her complaining, Althea improved. She moved quicker. Lighter. Her reactions sharpened.

  Then came barrier practice.

  She inhaled deeply, picturing the gentle curve she created yesterday. She lifted her hands.

  The air shimmered.

  Thin. Delicate. But forming.

  “Yes—!” she began.

  Then the barrier sputtered, dissolved, and a harmless puff of glittery dust fell over her face.

  “…I look like I fell into a sparkly cake.”

  “You did better,” Lyssa said warmly.

  “Sparkly improvement,” Rowan added.

  Keal nodded once. “Again.”

  Althea groaned dramatically but obeyed. She tried again. And again. And again. Failures, near-successes, and more sparkly dust later, she collapsed onto the grass.

  “I think the universe hates me,” she mumbled.

  Rowan flopped beside her. “No, you just need time.”

  Lyssa sat on Althea’s other side. “We all need time.” Her voice grew softer. “None of us really knew our own strengths before you arrived.”

  Althea looked at the omegas training around them. They weren’t powerful yet. They weren’t confident. They tripped, stumbled, and fell more than they succeeded. But they kept trying—with shaky hope in their eyes.

  She swallowed. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “You don’t have to,” Lyssa said. “You just have to stay.”

  Althea felt something warm bloom in her chest. Not magic. Just… belonging.

  Before she could respond, a sharp whistle echoed through the forest. Keal instantly stiffened, turning toward the sound.

  “That wasn’t an animal,” he said quietly.

  Rowan clutched Althea’s sleeve. “What was it?”

  “A signal,” Keal murmured. “A warning. Someone’s approaching.”

  The omegas froze mid-movement. Althea stood slowly, her heartbeat rising.

  “Are they friendly?” she whispered.

  Keal didn’t blink. “Unlikely.”

  The bushes rustled. Heavy footsteps approached. Shadows moved between the trees.

  The omegas instinctively drew close to Althea, eyes wide and frightened. She stepped in front of them without thinking.

  Her magic flickered in her palms.

  Weak. Unsteady.

  But ready.

  “Stay behind me,” she said softly.

  Lyssa and Rowan obeyed.

  Keal stood at her side, blade lowered but prepared. “Whatever happens,” he said, “don’t panic.”

  Althea nodded, even though she already was.

  Leaves parted.

  And a tall figure stepped out of the forest, wearing dark travel armor, a cloak dusted with ash… and a glowing symbol etched into their wrist.

  Keal stiffened.

  Althea whispered, “Who is that?”

  His voice dropped to a tense, low hush.

  “A scout. And not from here.”

  The stranger’s eyes met theirs—and they were not friendly.