Roxanne's POV
The next day, I find out what being Canan's lapdog really means.
This morning, he starts with a robe. He appears in the training yard wearing the long black stash of his rank, and when I arrive late on purpose, he lifts his chin and calls my name so everyone can hear.
"Ronan. Here."
The circle of students parts like water. Heads turn. Conversations hiccup.
"Bring me the red practice sash," he orders without looking at me.
"That ribbon is for the alphas," someone protests, surprised. "Canan..."
"Shut it." He doesn't raise his voice. He merely talks, and his narrowed eyes do the talking. The man who speaks, I assume the coach retreats instead of arguing. He is scared. They are all scared of Canan. That is the power he holds here. He loves it. I see it in the way his shou
