Chase’s POV
The woods behind the estate became our secret classroom.
We started small—dusk sessions twice a week, when the light was low enough to hide us from prying eyes but bright enough for the kids to see where they stepped. I couldn’t run with them yet, couldn’t shift, couldn’t even walk without the brace clicking like a metronome. But I could still teach.
I chose the same clearing by the creek every time—open ground, soft pine needles underfoot, the water’s murmur masking our voices. The betas stayed back at the house with Amelia, giving us space. This was pack business. Family business.
First lesson: hierarchy.
We sat in a loose circle on the needles—me leaning against a fallen log, crutches propped beside me, the triplets cross-legged in front of me like little soldiers.
“Wo
