Kora’s POV
The next few days bled into each other like streaks of ink on wet paper. Training at dawn. Training after dusk. Rest only in the hours between, if I was lucky. The courtyard became my battlefield, my confessional, my prison.
Mara never went easy on me. She woke me before the sun and pushed me past the point where my body screamed for mercy. Edward was there almost every session—sometimes inside the circle with me, sometimes watching from the edge, his silver eyes narrowed like a hawk’s. When I stumbled, he steadied me. When I faltered, he caught me. But he didn’t stop Mara, not anymore.
Because he knew what I knew.
Aaron was coming.
And if I didn’t learn to master what was inside me, there wouldn’t be a pack left to protect.
On the sixth morning, the mist was thick enough
