4.
1303 Words
The implication was clear enough. Survival was never guaranteed in Skadi. Even less so beyond the capital walls. One single night in the wild winter should not have terrified me. I had survived two years at the eastern border.
But that had been with shelter.
With Brynja.
With Oren.
With preparation.
This— This was deliberate exposure. No assigned shelter. No protection. Just the cold. And whatever else roamed beyond the gates during the night.
Krystal leaned slightly toward me.
“Well,” she whispered.
“At least we know what we’re getting into.”
I barely heard her. Across the cavern, Fannar’s gaze returned to me briefly. Not lingering. Not curious. Assessing. As though weighing whether I would survive the night. Or whether winter would claim the Mad King’s daughter before he ever had to decide what to do with her.
My pulse pounded steadily in my ears.
Lion’s den.
No.
This was worse.
The den was warm.
This was winter’s judgment.
The professor stepped aside.
“You leave in one hour,” he said.
“Prepare yourselves.”
The cavern erupted into low, tense conversation. Krystal turned fully toward me now. “We should stick near each other at first,” she said.
“At least until we get past the perimeter.”
Allies.
Necessary.
I nodded slowly.
“Yes,” I said. But my gaze drifted one last time toward the future Alpha. Fannar stood unmoving beside the professor, pale hair catching torchlight, expression unreadable once more. Winter given human form. And if he truly knew who I was— Then surviving the night might be the least of my challenges.
The cavern fractured into motion the moment we were dismissed. Some recruits rushed toward weapon racks, others toward supply alcoves built into the walls. Voices overlapped—strategies forming, alliances negotiated in hurried whispers.
“OK… one hour,” Krystal muttered.
“That’s not enough time to rethink all my life choices.”
“It’s plenty of time to regret them,” I replied.
She flashed me a quick grin.
“Meet back near the west tunnel in an hour?”
I nodded.
“Don’t wander off.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
And then… we split.
I moved quickly but not recklessly, forcing myself to breathe through the tightness in my chest. Panic wasted heat. Panic wasted energy.
Think.
One night.
Not a week.
Not a border winter.
One night beyond the capital walls.
The supply alcove held basic provisions—flint, rope, small canteens, dried meat strips. Nothing excessive. This wasn’t a charity outing; it was a test.
I took flint.
A length of rope.
Two strips of dried meat.
No tents offered. Because…Of course not.
You survive with what you carry.
I turned toward the intake room to retrieve my pack. And that was when I felt it. The weight of someone’s gaze on my back. Not curious. Not neutral. Almost… predatory like. I didn’t look immediately. I adjusted the rope at my belt first, then glanced sideways. The broad-shouldered guy from the registration line stood a few paces away from me, leaning lazily against a support beam. The grin he wore earlier had sharpened into something uglier. He looked me over slowly. Deliberately. It made my skin crawl.
“Frost bite,” he called lightly.
“You sure you’re in the right House?”
I didn’t answer him.
He pushed off the beam and stepped closer.
“You don’t look like you’ve ever slept outside without someone guarding your door.”
My jaw tightened.
“I’ve managed,” I said evenly.
He circled slightly, forcing me to turn if I wanted to keep him in view. I did. Smart enough not to let him at my back.
“Hope you don’t mind sharing warmth,” he added, voice lowering.
“Gets cold out there. Might need your body for some extra heat.”
For half a heartbeat, I was back in palace corridors, older men looking at me like something to be bartered. Weak. Guarded. Cornered.
No.
Not here.
Not again.
I met his gaze steadily, even as nausea twisted beneath my ribs.
“If you come near me out there,” I said quietly,
“you’ll regret it.”
He laughed.
“Big words. I’ll see you out there.”
But he stepped back. For now. And only when he was out of the room did I allow myself to lose the breath I had been holding. Grabbing some daggers, just in case.
I moved quickly into the intake room and grabbed my pack from its cubby. My hands were steady now—not because I wasn’t afraid, but because fear had sharpened into something cleaner. Resolve. I opened the pack and checked its contents carefully.
Extra knife.
I drew it out. The blade wasn’t large, but it was well-balanced. Oren had taught me how to hold it properly. Where to aim if I ever needed to. Not for hunting. For survival. I strapped it securely at my thigh instead of leaving it buried in the bag like the daggers.
Let the fucker try to touch me once…
Next, I pulled out the blanket Brynja had insisted I take. Thick wool, heavier than it looked. She had pressed it into my arms the morning I left.
“For when pride isn’t enough,” she’d said. I swallowed hard at the memory. I folded it tighter, adjusting my pack so it would be easier to access quickly. Shelter would matter. Windbreaks. Snow trenches. Body heat conservation.
Think like winter.
Think like Brynja and Oren…
Find elevation but not exposure.
Avoid open plains.
Look for rock formations, fallen trees, shallow caves.
And avoid other recruits if possible.
Especially that weird guy who kept following me around like I was his next dinner.
A horn sounded through the cavern.
Time was almost up...
My pulse kicked harder. Let’s see if we can pass this test…
I returned to the main chamber, scanning automatically for Krystal. I found her near the western tunnel as promised, adjusting the straps on her boots.
She looked up as I approached.
“You good?”
“Yes.” I nodded.
Her eyes flicked briefly to the knife at my thigh, but she didn’t comment.
“Stay sharp out there,” she murmured.
“Some of them are already forming groups.”
“I noticed.”
The professor reappeared again, flanked once more by the older students—Fannar among them. I felt his presence before I allowed myself to look for him. When I did find him, his gaze was not on me, and it honestly stung my pride. It was on the group as a whole. Assessing. Calculating. As if he were already measuring how many of us would return and how many of us would be dead by morning.
The gates would open soon.
So… I watched him, and I took him in completely.
If this was my last night, I might as well let my eyes enjoy as long as I possibly could…
Hell… the memory of him later tonight might keep me warm just a bit longer…
“Form up,” the professor commanded. We were herded toward the main exit tunnel, the air growing progressively colder as we neared the outer gate. Torches thinned. Stone gave way to reinforced timber. The massive doors ahead groaned as mechanisms shifted. A blade of white light sliced into the tunnel. Wind and cold followed. Brutal. Unforgiving.
The doors opened fully. The world beyond was endless white beneath a bruised sky. No instructors stepped past the threshold. No guidance offered.
“Return by first light at dawn,” the professor called.
“Or do not return at all.”
And then— We were escorted outside into the freezing cold.
- Writer
