Eli
They drag the man in just after noon.
Two enforcers have him by the arms, his boots carving deep grooves in the frozen earth.
His head jerks like a trapped animal’s, hair matted with sweat and blood.
The clearing stills as the pack forms a wide ring, the low chatter dying until all I hear is the wind cutting through the trees and the crackle of the bonfire.
I stand near the edge, arms aching from the logs I’ve been ordered to haul. But far too stubborn to stop.
All my life I’ve been told I’m nothing but a weak Omega, but I know that’s bullshit.
If they allowed me to train the way the other werewolves train, I’d be as strong as any of them.
Jace is a few steps away, expression unreadable, arms folded. Everyone else watches with a strange mix of anticipation and fear.
I keep
