The morning air was thick with the scent of pine and sweat, the rustling of the trees as the warriors of Elias’s pack moved in rhythm around me. I could feel their eyes on me, and it only made me push harder. I was no longer the timid, rejected mate I once was. No longer a pawn.
I lunged at the target dummy, my muscles burning as the wooden blade in my hand cut through the air with precision. Sweat trickled down my temple, but I didn’t stop. My body was sore from training for hours, but I was determined. I had to prove something—not just to Elias or the others, but to myself.
“Not bad, but your stance is still too wide,” a deep voice called out from behind me.
I turned, slightly out of breath, to see Elias standing there, arms crossed, his sharp gaze taking in my every move. There was a
