Amara
“I don’t want to do this,” I said for the third time as I stood just inside the treeline, arms crossed tight over my chest.
Lucian didn’t answer right away. He simply stood across from me, calm and immovable, the way he always was when he was waiting for me to stop resisting something I secretly wanted.
“It’s just a tracking drill,” he said. “You, me, and your wolf.”
“Nyra doesn’t want to play right now.”
“She doesn’t have to. She just has to follow.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sound like a warrior trainer.”
His lips lifted at the corner. “I am.”
We were deep in the eastern woods, just outside the final border wards. Safe—but wild enough that I could feel the shift in air pressure. In silence. In instinct.
I hadn’t let Nyra out in days. Not since the glass. The water. The vision
