Training Yard
Sweat glistened beneath the noon sun as the two men stood at the center of the training yard.
Alpha Darius wore a sleeveless leather tunic, his arms bare and scarred with battles past, black trousers tucked into worn boots, his crimson sash tied loosely at his waist.
Across from him stood Beta Cedric, broader in frame, clad in a dark jerkin and bracers, his hair tied back, chest heaving from exertion.
The weapons lay abandoned at the edge—this was to be bare-handed.
Cedric smirked, wiping blood from his lip. “Alpha… may I act informally now?”
Darius’s lips twitched, just faintly. “Try.”
Without warning, the Beta struck. His foot landed squarely against the Alpha’s chest, sending him staggering backward as his knee hit the floor. Before the pain could settle, a well-ai
