Kieran's POV
"Ronan. Mason. You're next."
My voice didn't waver. If anything, it rang louder now—because at this point, it wasn't a test anymore. It was a warning. And every ranked wolf in the room could feel it.
Ronan, the tank. Mason, the tactician. Both elite. Both proud. Both looked at each other, then at Elara like they weren't sure if they were stepping into a spar or a battlefield.
Ronan cracked his neck, arms crossed. "You sure about this?"
Elara just nodded once, already stepping back into that same eerie, steady stance. Balanced. Loose. Dangerous.
Mason exhaled, rolling out his shoulders. "Alright, Luna. Let's see what you've got."
The second they entered the circle, she moved.
Ronan charged in first, as expected—power and brute strength, aiming to overw
