BLOOD CRESCENT
ALEXANDER
The steady rhythm of my movements had become almost meditative.
I drove my fist forward, pulled it back, and immediately followed with another strike, each movement controlled and deliberate. Sweat rolled down my back and along my temples, but I barely noticed it anymore. I had been training for long enough that my body had settled into the familiar rhythm, my mind focused entirely on the exercise.
The training grounds were relatively quiet at this hour. Most of the pack had already begun their daily activities, leaving only the occasional sound of footsteps in the distance and the dull impact of my fists against the training bag.
I stepped back and rolled my shoulders, drawing in a deep breath before moving forward again.
My mind had been unusually occupied
