Three days weren’t enough time to prepare anyone for what was coming. But it was all we had.The adolescent wolves stood in the training yard. Nervous. Excited. Too young to fully understand what they were volunteering for.Maya. Fourteen. Fast. Clever. Daughter of a pack warrior who’d died fighting the Collective.Jason. Thirteen. Small even for his age. But it could fit through spaces others couldn’t. His mother watched from the sidelines, face pale.Kira. Fifteen. The oldest. The leader. She’d already shifted three times. Already proven herself capable. Her father stood beside her, pride and terror warring on his face.“You don’t have to do this,” I told them. Voice soft. Serious. “This is dangerous. Possibly deadly. No one will think less of you if you walk away.”“My dad died fighting them,” Maya said. Chin up. Defiant. “I want to help finish what he started.”“My mom says the Collective took my older brother years ago. Experimented on him. Killed him.” Jason’s voice shook but he
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