Asher’s POV
The training grounds reeked of sweat and dirt, the sharp crack of fists meeting flesh echoing through the air. Wolves moved in circles, bodies coiled tight, waiting for the next command. I stood just beyond the edge. Arms folded. Gaze locked on the younger ones as they fought under Beta Caelan’s watchful eyes.
"Again," Caelan snapped. His voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Two warriors lunged. Hits landed, fast but controlled. Too controlled. This wasn't a real fight—this was practice, hesitation wrapped in a false sense of security.
I let out a slow breath. No instinct. No killer edge.
"You're holding back," I called, stepping forward. "That hesitation? It’ll get you killed. You either go for the throat, or you don’t go at all."
The fighters stiffened. The leane
