Reagan’s POV
The sun was beating down on the training field like it had a personal problem with me.
Sweat already soaked through my shirt even though I wasn’t the one running drills. I stood off to the side with my arms crossed tight over my chest, watching the younger warriors move through their combat sequences. As the future Alpha of Silvermoon Pack, it was my job to make them stronger, sharper, ready for anything. Today I was pushing them harder than usual. I needed the noise. I needed the distraction.
“Faster!” I shouted when one of the guys dropped his guard for half a second. “You move like that in a real fight and you’re dead. Do it again. From the top.”
They were all sweating hard, chests heaving, repeating the same combination over and over. Fists flying, legs sweeping, bodie
