Malrik
The training grounds smelled like sweat, pine, and wet earth, everything I needed to center myself on my off day.
After the chaos of the past few weeks, with rogue wolves showing up uninvited and my head constantly full of Daisy, I needed the rhythm of muscle, dirt, and my men. I needed to move.
“Move your ass, Osman!” I barked across the field, feeling agitated, and he rolled sideways just in time to avoid a swipe from the Gamma we’d recently promoted, Jace. The young one was quick, his strikes clean, but not quite unpredictable enough yet.
“Damn, Alpha,” Osman muttered as he picked himself up, brushing pine needles off his back. “You could give a guy a break. I haven’t even gotten breakfast yet.”
“Rogues won’t wait for you to have bacon and eggs,” I said, crossing my
