The next morning arrived without peace.
At Obsidian moon, dawn did not soften the world.
It sharpened it.
The training grounds were already alive.
Wolves moved across the massive stone arena in coordinated formations, their movements precise and brutal in equal measure. Steel clashed. Orders echoed. The scent of pine, sweat, and earth filled the cold morning air.
Rowan stood near the edge of the platform wearing dark training gear, arms crossed as he watched two obsidian moon warriors spar.
“…Yeah,” he muttered. “These people are terrifying.”
One of the warriors was thrown hard enough to crack stone.
Rowan winced.
“Very terrifying.”
Adrian stood beside him, calm but alert.
Unlike Rowan, he looked like he belonged there now.
Dark athletic wear clung to his broad frame, the sleev
