Aisla's POV
The night after the battle remained clear in my head. It was filled with smoke, blood, and the stunned faces of wolves who once saw me as a servant. But at that moment, I was something else entirely. Something they could not name without trembling.
And now here I was, back in the training yard.
The air was filled with the clang of steel and the thud of bodies against the ground. The warriors sparred in pairs and flashed their claws as their muscles strained. I stood among them with tense shoulders, pretending I belonged.
"Again," barked the drill master. His eyes darted toward me skeptically before he snapped his attention back to the line of soldiers. "Form up. Defensive stance."
I shifted my weight and mimicked the others.
