The tension in Silvercrest was no longer silent.
It pulsed—through the hallways, across training grounds, even in the eyes of the youngest wolves. There were whispers, strange scents on the wind, unexplained absences from patrols. And now, Evelyn had seen the truth—Selena wasn’t just a rival. She was a threat to the entire pack.
Evelyn stood at the edge of the sparring field just before dawn. The ground was slick with dew, and the sky bled orange and pink as morning approached.
Opposite her stood Damien, shirtless and already stretching.
“Last time we did this, I won,” he said with a smirk.
Evelyn rolled her eyes, cracking her knuckles. “Last time, I let you win.”
He raised a brow. “I highly doubt that.”
They launched into training without another word—hands, feet, momentum and rest
