The training grounds of the Black Ridge were a brutal expanse of packed earth and jagged stone. Even in the early morning, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and the rhythmic, bone-deep thud of heavy bodies hitting the dirt. It was a place defined by violence, and as Silas and I approached, the sound died down in a chilling, synchronized wave.
One by one, the warriors stopped. Predatory eyes tracked my every move. They didn’t look at me with respect; they looked at me like a mistake—a human curiosity Silas had traded a fortune for.
"Again," Kaelen snapped.
Kaelen, the pack’s lead Beta, was made of iron and spite. For the last hour, she had used me as a punching bag under the guise of an 'assessment.' Every time I found my footing, she sent me back into the dirt with a strike that
