"Too slow. Again."
This continued for what felt like hours—him attacking, me failing to block in time, his cold voice repeating "Again" until I wanted to scream. By the time the sun had fully risen, sweat soaked my clothes and my arms trembled from the weight of the wooden sword.
"Enough basics," he said abruptly. "Now we add your wolf."
I blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Shift," he commanded. "But only partially. I want claws, fangs, enhanced senses. Nothing more."
Partial shifting was difficult. Most wolves went all in or stayed human. The middle ground required control few mastered. I'd done it before, but never on command, never under pressure.
"I don't think I can—"
"You won't survive if you can't," he cut me off. "Your enemies won't always give you time for a full shift
