“Who does he think he is, ordering me to train? Hmph.” Michelle slammed the door to her room, the sound echoing through the hall. Her neon-colored dri-fit shirt was standing out against the bleak, wooden backdrop of the corridor.“Just wait. I will crush that Hunt!” she bellowed at the top of her lungs, her boots thudding against the floorboards as she marched out of the mansion.The morning air bit at Michelle’s skin, sharp with the scent of pine and the rhythmic, heavy thud of bodies hitting the earth. Ray walked ahead with a steady, weathered gait. Michelle trailed behind him, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs.At the training grounds, the sheer scale of the Pack’s world stopped her cold. Warriors moved with a fluid, terrifying grace that made her own movements feel clunky and amateur. She retreated to a weathered wooden bench, her fingers twisting restlessly in her lap. She felt like a fraud in borrowed gear.“This isn't training, this is a death camp,” she muttered.Ray s
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