Even though Lyra stormed off, Sloane didn’t feel relief. A tight knot of frustration churned in her chest. She could pretend she’d moved on from Damon, but she could never truly turn away from Caleb.
Ethan’s voice cut through her thoughts, calm and grounding. “Sloane, still heading to the surgery sim?”
She blinked, shaking herself free from the spiral of worry. “Yeah, of course.”
The past was behind her. The future still held light. No pack instinct, or human emotion, was going to derail her plans.
The training room smelled faintly of antiseptic and synthetic blood. Skeletal models stood like sentinels, and stacks of medical texts lined the shelves. Sloane moved straight to the surgical practice area, sharpening her hands and mind, letting precision and speed dominate her foc
