Asher was a whirlwind of fury and focused on the Royal Pack's training grounds. Each strike, punch, and movement was sharp and deliberate, his body moving like a finely tuned machine. His frustrations had built up: about Bella, about the uncertainty of their fate, and the pressure of his impending birthday. It all poured out through the rigorous training, each strike of his fists against the training dummies resonating with the storm brewing inside him.
King Markus, his uncle, stood nearby, observing Asher with a sharp eye, even as he spoke quietly on his phone. The conversation was with Azriel, Asher’s father, who was just as anxious for the days ahead.
"Asher is formidable," Markus said, his tone one of approval. "He’s giving everything he has in this training. You should see him. Ther
