Alyssa's POV:
I stared up at the cracked ceiling of the maid quarters, as my stomach twisted painfully. The stale bread they had shoved into my hand hours ago was long gone — and even then, it had tasted like ash and blood.
I wasn’t asking for a five-star meal.
Hell, I wasn’t even asking for a decent plate of rice and stew.
But stale bread?
In the twenty-first freaking century?
What the hell was wrong with the Silverfang Pack? It felt like they were stuck in the 18th century, acting like refrigeration and seasoning were some foreign concepts.
I clutched my stomach and sat up carefully, mindful not to wake the other trainees sleeping around me. We were crammed like sardines in this room, and the air was filled with the smell of sweat and damp sheets.
SilverCrest had been cruel — sur
