TYLER'S POV
The night was so cold that it bit into my skin. I did my best to ignore it as I trained.
The moon illuminated the training field. I felt the sting of my dad's knuckles against my ribs as I barely dodged his next attack. The sound of his boots scraping against the dirt and the occasional grunt of effort filled the air. Midnight pack training was brutal, and tonight was no exception. My muscles screamed in protest, but I couldn't afford to stop.
I spun around, delivering a high kick aimed at his face. He ducked with the ease of someone who had years of experience on me and countered with a sharp jab to my side.
"Come on, Tyler," he barked. "You're getting slow."
Groaning, I staggered back, wiping sweat from my brow. "I'm tired, Dad."
His smirk was infuriating. "You weren't
