The forest air was crisp with early morning chill, dew clinging to the leaves and damp earth. Evelyn moved cautiously through the training grounds, each step deliberate, careful, but her body still bore the evidence of recent struggles — bruised arms, tender legs, and the ghost of yesterday’s fear lingering in her chest.
Lucien walked nearby, silent and commanding, his golden eyes scanning the pack. The mate bond pulsed subtly in her chest, a steady reminder of his presence, his dominance, and the warning woven into its rhythm. Stay close. Do not falter. Danger lingers.
Even with the warning, Evelyn’s gaze drifted. From the edge of the grounds, the rival watched her, calm, composed, impossibly perfect. His dark hair caught the sunlight, and his eyes — sharp, calculating, and unsettlingly
