Philipa forced herself to keep running.
Her boots hit the ground in steady rhythm, her breath sharp but controlled. Sweat slowly formed on her forehead as the cold air burned her lungs.
She ignored Marvin’s earlier shove.
Ignored the mocking laughter.
Focused only on finishing the sprint.
But her wolf wouldn’t calm down.
Danger.
She felt it again when Marvin suddenly moved closer again, running just beside her. His shoulder brushed hers—not by accident.
She shifted away. He followed.
Another runner clipped her elbow from the other side.
Her balance wavered. “Watch it,” she snapped.
Marvin smirked. “Relax. It’s just training.”
His eyes said otherwise.
They were dark. Cruel. Waiting.
As they rounded the second lap, Marvin slowed slightly, forcing Philipa to slow too—or crash in
