Sylvia POV
I storm toward the locker room, one hand pressed under my nose, leaving faint red smudges on the grass. The metallic tang of blood clings to my tongue, sharp and humiliating. The kind of blood that drips from a bruised ego and a very real, very public defeat.
The bathroom door bangs open, rebounding off the wall as I enter.
“That f*****g b***h,” I hiss, yanking paper towels from the dispenser. My nose is swelling — of course it is — and my pride has already ballooned past the point of repair. I should shift for my nose to heal, but the door creaks open, and I swallow hard when I recognise Alpha Jacob. Did he witness my humiliation? Is he here to tell me I suck and that I am no longer good enough to train with the advanced group?
“Alpha,” I groan, dabbing at my face with exag
