(Winter's POV)
She hopped off the arena platform into Kat's waiting arms, and her friend hugged her tightly despite the sweat that soaked her training clothes, despite the sand that coated her skin in a fine layer of grit, despite the exhaustion that made her limbs tremble with each heartbeat. The contact was grounding, real, a reminder that she existed outside the bubble of combat, that there were people who cared whether she won or lost—not for political advantage, not for pack status, but because they cared about her.
"Come on," Kat said, pulling back but keeping her hands on Winter's shoulders, steadying her when her legs threatened to buckle. She pressed a bottle of water and a damp towel into Winter's hands, the fabric cool against her overheated skin. "Let's get you to his office
