KADE
I remembered the sting of the cold morning air, the way it bit through my thin training shirt, how the practice sword felt too heavy in my twelve-year-old hands. Father circled me like a hawk, every step slow, deliberate, his boots crunching the frost-covered grass.
“What makes a good Alpha, Kade?” His voice broke the silence, sharp as a blade.
I gripped the sword tighter, heart hammering. I wanted to impress him. I needed to. “An Alpha protects his people. He fights for them.”
Father’s mouth twitched. Not a smile. Never a smile.
“Wrong.”
The word slammed into me harder than his sword ever could. I blinked, confused.
“Try again,” he said.
I swallowed. “He… makes sure everyone is safe? He doesn’t leave anyone behind?”
Father stopped moving. His shadow stretched over me, heavy
