The following dawn brought no mercy, only the cold, unyielding weight of survival.
Elena stood on the dirt of the royal training grounds, her breath coming in ragged, freezing plumes. For three hours straight, King Cassian had pushed her body past its absolute limits. He was no longer treating her like a fragile patient; he was training her like a soldier preparing for a bloody war.
"Again!" Cassian’s voice boomed across the arena, snapping like a whip.
Elena gritted her teeth, her muscles burning with pure exhaustion. She raised her wooden training daggers, rushing at the massive Lycan King. She sidestepped, feinted to the left, and swung with a sudden burst of speed. But Cassian was a master predator. He anticipated her movement effortlessly. With a swift flick of his wrist, he disarm
