Adrian's POV
The morning air was dense with a haunting stillness as I stood at the heart of the training field, the same one that had once echoed with screams and clashing steel during my reign of tyranny. I remembered the way warriors had collapsed on this ground, the scent of blood soaked into its soil, the desperate cries of those who had once called me Alpha out of fear rather than respect. Now, the cries were different—grunts of exertion, the clash of blades meeting in sparring, the shouted corrections of instructors rebuilding what I had shattered.
Damon stood beside me, arms folded, his eyes scanning the field with a strategist's precision. His voice cut through the din like a blade as he pointed out flaws in stances and strikes. "Left foot wider. You're too exposed."
