The training ring behind the Blackfang barracks wasn’t meant for elegance. No chandeliers here. No velvet. Just dirt, sweat, and the constant reek of dominance battles pressed into the ground. The torches ringed the space in flickering amber light, casting long shadows across the dust-caked stone.
Jasmine stood at the edge, barefoot, her hair braided tightly down her back. The skin beneath her black tunic gleamed with the aftermath of heat and moonlight. She cracked her knuckles one at a time, slow, deliberate, as if each pop of bone was a declaration.
Kade leaned against the wooden post, shirtless. Scarred. Smirking. His eyes didn’t leer—they challenged. “I didn’t think you’d show.”
“Then you haven’t been paying attention,” Jasmine said, stepping into the ring.
He followed, slow, drag
