Dawn didn’t arrive gently.
It cut across Blackridge in hard gold lines,
burning the mist away and pulling the pack into motion with a restless edge that hadn’t been there before.
They had been seen.
Tested.
And now they were preparing……
“Again.”
Lyra’s voice carried across the clearing—sharp, unwavering.
Rowan stood opposite her, chest rising steadily, sweat clinging to his skin. The ease from yesterday was gone.
Today was harder.
Faster.
Relentless.
“Move,” she said.
Rowan did.
Lyra struck.
No warning.
No pause.
Rowan blocked but just barely. The impact pushed him back two steps, his boots digging into the dirt.
“Too slow,” Lyra said.
Rowan exhaled sharply.
“You’re not holding back anymore.”
Lyra’s silver eyes didn’t soften.
“You don’t need me to.”
Rowan’s jaw tight
