Free Web NovelChapter 370: Chapter 370 Training Day, Royal Style
Allison
Training days have a sound all of their own, not loud exactly, but layered, boots on packed earth, measured breaths, the steady hum of wards flexing under pressure, and I stand at the edge of the field with my sleeves rolled, focus anchored forward, because today isn’t about spectacle, it’s about certainty.
Abigail doesn’t waste time. She never does.
"Ward-jammed comms," she announces, voice carrying clean across the field. "Assume interference, assume failure, assume nothing works the way you planned. Adapt, or lose."
A ripple moves through the assembled pack, curiosity threaded with skepticism, because drills without tech unsettle people now, and drills led by a royal hybrid unsettle them even more, and I feel it, the weight of eyes pressing in, testing my balance before we even start.
Abigail moves first, human form, precise and relaxed, her awareness wide and unhidden, and I step in opposite her, grounding myself in the feel of the earth, the wards humming faintly under my boots.
’Steady,’ Ruby murmurs, present but quiet.
’Always,’ I answer.
The first round stays human, no radios, no shared feeds, no visual overlays, just line of sight, body language, and decision-making under pressure, and Abigail pushes immediately, not reckless, not flashy, but decisive, forcing me to commit instead of allowing me to circle.
I match her, shifting angles, adjusting distance, using hand signals when the wards scramble proximity cues, letting my awareness widen instead of narrowing, and I hear it then, the change in the crowd’s tone as recognition starts to replace doubt.
She escalates, jamming the field harder, forcing silence where coordination usually lives, and I pivot smoothly, switching to touch cues and breath timing, adapting without breaking stride, and Abigail’s mouth curves in sharp approval.
"Again," she snaps.
We run it twice more, each pass tighter, cleaner, the pack’s suspicion thinning into something closer to respect as competence keeps answering challenges without explanation.
Then Abigail steps back and grins, feral and pleased.
"We shift." The shift is immediate.
Abigail doesn’t call Galaxy forward, she becomes her, in a fluid shift I envy. The crowd murmur their praise at her quick shift, their eyes taking in the royal wolf in front of their eyes, and Galaxy is a sight to behold for sure. Especially for those who have heard the tales, but never seen her with their own eyes.
Ruby surges in response, my own shift smooth and deliberate, dark blue fur with silver stripes catching the light as four tails fan for balance, and when my paws hit the ground the field seems to hold its breath.
Then something else happens I did not count on. My bed begins to itch. Ruby’s body trembles as magic flows through us. I panic for a second before Ruby tells me to relax, and this is what was meant to be all along.
The crowd murmurs, my mates strengthen their presence in our link. Ruby hums, and then it’s all over. But it’s not. Ruby turns her head, and there on our backend is a new tail. A fifth tail.
’You are indeed the lost Princess, Allison. Congratulations on the tail. Do you know what it does?’ Abigail’s voice sounds in Ruby’s head.
’Not at the moment..’ Ruby barks a laugh, the new tail warms, brightens and then I’m on the other side of Galaxy.
’That’s a nifty little trick. But we fight with no powers today. We can make a training fight with powers tomorrow or the next day. I intend to stay here for a while.’ Abigail’s cool voice says, amusement underlining her words.
Ruby puts herself in the right position for the fight, and then they’re at it. It’s not dominance from either side, it’s calibration.
Galaxy and Ruby circle once, then twice, neither of us rushing, neither posturing, eyes locked, weight measured, and then we move, fast enough to blur, meeting in a collision that sends dust spiraling without malice or blood.
Galaxy feints left, so Ruby counters right.
They exchange momentum, testing reach and recovery, neither gaining ground, neither yielding, and I hear the sharp intake of breath behind me as it becomes clear that this isn’t uneven, that the fox isn’t outmatched, that Galaxy isn’t holding back.
’You’re precise,’ Ruby links, bright and focused.
’So are you,’ Galaxy answers through Abigail’s mind, the acknowledgement clean and mutual.
They clash again, faster this time, Ruby sliding under Galaxy’s shoulder, Galaxy rolling with it instead of resisting, both of us adjusting mid-motion to keep the exchange controlled, balanced, equal.
When Abigail calls it in our minds, Galaxy disengages immediately, stepping back without challenge, without the need to assert anything further, and Ruby mirrors her, halting cleanly, tails settling as the tension drains.
Equal.
The field goes quiet for a heartbeat, then sound rushes back in, voices overlapping, excitement bleeding through restraint, and I shift back to human with Ruby settling smoothly beneath my skin, my pulse elevated but steady.
I look up and find the triplets without searching.
Ethan stands with his arms loosely crossed, pride unmistakable even through his restraint, Ezra’s grin wide and unapologetic, Damon’s satisfaction humming beneath it, and Elijah closest to the line, eyes locked on me like he’s cataloging every breath to be sure I’m solid.
Beside them, Luna Ella watches with open, fierce pride, approval unguarded and unmistakable, and the warmth of it settles deep in my chest.
Above us, at the railing, Alpha Jack watches with something dark and sharp burning in his gaze, wrath and hatred braided together, and I don’t look away first, because shrinking would be a lie.
Abigail shifts back to human, her Omega’s there in an instant with a cover and clothes. Then she dusts her hands together once.
"That," she says clearly, "is adaptability." She turns toward me.
"You don’t fight like a fox pretending to be a wolf. You fight like someone who knows exactly what she is."
"Thank you," I say, and I mean it.
Council members start circling then, pulled by momentum and curiosity, questions spilling out about tactics, ward interference, hybrid coordination, most of it harmless, some of it impressed, and I answer where appropriate, deferring when needed, letting Abigail lead where royal doctrine is involved.
For a few minutes, it almost feels easy. Then Harlan and Maren step in. They don’t smile, they never do.
"Queen Abigail," Harlan says smoothly, folding his hands. "Surely you see the risk here. Wolves like us require consistency."
"Sidelining her would reduce friction. Tradition exists for a reason." Maren nods her agreement.
Abigail blinks once, then laughs, short and incredulous.
"Are you serious?" Harlan stiffens.
"We’re talking about pack stability."
"No," Abigail replies flatly, turning fully toward them, "you’re talking about comfort and pretending it’s law." Maren’s lips thin.
"You can’t deny species differences."
"Get your heads out of your asses." Abigail snorts.
The words land hard, cracking the tension wide open, and laughter bursts through the field, startled and genuine, even from wolves who’d been watching cautiously, and I laugh too before I can stop myself.
Abigail gestures back toward the field.
"You just watched her adapt under jammed comms, coordinate with a royal hybrid, and match Galaxy move for move. If that threatens your worldview, that’s not her problem."
"You’d back her over your own kind?" Harlan flushes.
"I back competence," Abigail answers. "And courage. Try it sometime."
Approval rolls outward, murmurs shifting tone, and Harlan and Maren retreat, their arguments dead on arrival.
Elijah steps in close, fingers brushing mine.
"You were incredible," he murmurs, pride unhidden. freēwēbnovel.com
"Exactly what the pack needed." Ethan nods once.
"Equal means equal." Ezra grins.
Luna Ella steps forward, taking my hands briefly, her smile warm and bright. "
You did wonderfully, Luna Allison." The word lands easily now, not sharp, not contested, and I accept it without flinching, because today I earned it.
Above us, Alpha Jack turns away from the railing, fury still coiled tight, but smaller somehow, edged out by something he can’t control anymore.
The pack disperses slowly, laughter lingering where suspicion once lived, and as I stand between the triplets, Ruby calm and satisfied beneath my skin. I know this mattered, not because it silenced everyone, but because it showed the truth without asking permission.
Equal ground doesn’t ask to be granted.
It’s taken, and held.
