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Fist
Training that afternoon held a new weight. My mind was still reeling from my meeting with the Alpha. Once his sickening, seductive thoughts cleared my conscience all that remained was burning anger.
The Alpha had dismissed the findings we had presented to him, had chastised me for doing research on behest of the pack, and had then used his overwhelming aura to blind me into some sort of sexually charged submission. I was white hot with rage, seething on the surface. I had no doubt were someone to lay a hand on me they would burn themselves, the flames of anger licked at my skin. I was unhinged.
Clarice called out our sparring partners, and I was delighted to be paired with a massive wolf named Wyatt. Wyatt had a reputation for being ruthless. He was built like a brick wall, tall and muscular, and his path to being a warrior was spelled out before him. He took training incredibly seriously, and what he lacked in speed he made up for in sheer strength and pow
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