Estella’s POV
Bree wouldn’t stop talking about the potion as we made our way across the Academy grounds to where our first class was to be held. She was practically glowing from it, recounting how her combat scores had doubled in a single week, how her stamina had surged, how every strike she made landed sharper, faster. I had never seen her that animated about anything else.
Her excitement should have been infectious, but all I could think about was how wrong it felt. The Academy wanted us to rely on a borrowed strength, of which we had limited supplies, instead of honing our own skills. But if we lived off that power, what would happen when it was gone? A wolf that couldn’t fight without a crutch was weaker than one that had never learnt to fight at all. And the way Bree’s cheeks flush
