{Nox’s POV}

The clearing was war.

Blood stained the soil. Claws flew in wild yet deliberate arcs. Roars tore through the air filled with malice.

I barked commands between lunges, guiding the rhythm of the fight like a conductor in a brutal dance.

Ali and Eva — yeah, the injured wolf had a name now — pushed hard, emboldened by the tonic and a shared desire not to die face-first in dirt.

They fought as one, falling into a rhythm. A deadly rhythm.

Ali went high, Eva went low. They ...