Chapter 8

JASMINE

As soon as the bell signaled the end of training for the day, I caught the girls in my group snickering together. I looked up to catch them whispering with their heads turned toward the bleachers, where I spotted Blake sitting, waiting for me.

“Daddy’s here,” I overheard one of the girls say.

I rolled my eyes at the jab, telling myself how childish they were. But, in reality, it stung—my transition to warrior had not exactly been easy. It felt like high school all over again, maybe even worse. I mean, we all try to pretend we’re past that whole “need to fit in” thing once we become adults, but then when you don’t, it’s like you’re back there all over again. Even my old high school nickname, PJ, that my classmates would use to taunt me for being “Perfect Jasmine” had been resurrected. Salt in the wound.

It all started because Blake wanted our training schedules to be identical, making the argument that I was going to be his luna and therefore I should train with the alpha. I