Dawn bled across the estate like a wound.
I stood in the training ring behind the main house, black tactical gear clinging to my skin, the silver knife still strapped to my thigh from the night before. The bond hummed steady in my chest, warm and whole after the claiming, but the silver wolf paced just under my ribs, restless and hungry for more.
Damien stood ten feet away, arms crossed, eyes pure gold. He hadn’t slept. Neither had I. The claiming had left us both raw and wired, the bond still sparking every time our eyes met.
The silver-haired elder — I still didn’t know her name — circled me slowly. Four other masters flanked the ring: two older wolves with scars on their throats, one younger woman with silver streaks in her hair, and a broad-shouldered male who looked like he could c
