Darius’s fist suddenly slammed into the wooden training post with such force that the entire beam cracked down the middle, splinters flying across the yard as his knuckles split open.
He stood there breathing hard, golden-brown eyes wide and unfocused, blood dripping from his hand onto the dirt. His raven hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. His wolf howled inside him so loudly it felt like his chest was being torn apart from the inside.
A warrior nearby dropped his sword and rushed over. “Alpha! Your hand—”
Darius waved him off sharply, turning away and pacing the length of the training yard in long, restless strides. He pressed his bleeding knuckles against his thigh, leaving a dark smear on his pants, but he didn’t stop moving. His other hand kept clenching and unclenching
