Page 58 of The Moonborn's Curse

The others were already moving—running laps, stretching, jumping to loosen their limbs.

Her muscles protested at first, stiff from days of inactivity, but she forced herself forward, focusing on the rhythm of her breath.

Run.

Jump.

Stretch.

Breathe.

Little by little, her lithe body remembered.

She fell into pace, her steps evening out, her arms and legs moving in sync.

She was keeping up.

But no one spoke to her.

Not outright.

They only watched—whispered.

Garrik observed for a while before finally stepping forward.

"Pair off for sparring."

Seren's palms were sweating, but she kept her face blank.

Garrik's gaze flickered over her, thoughtful. Then he motioned to a younger wolf—a boy smaller than her, but fast and strong.

"You. With her."

The pup grinned, confident.

Seren stepped onto the mat, rolling her shoulders.

She already knew what the others were thinking.

She wasn't one of them.

She didn't belong here.

She was weaker.

They would soon find out the truth.

The moment the fight began, the pup lunged.

He was fast—wolves were always fast—but Seren had trained with Rheon. She had spent hours learning the flow of combat, the angles, the weaknesses.

The moment he came at her, she sidestepped, ducking under his outstretched arm.

He growled, moving in again—stronger this time.

Seren waited.

Then, in one fluid motion, she pivoted, swept his legs from beneath him, and twisted his arm behind his back.

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