The sun beat down mercilessly on the training field, turning the air thick and heavy. My muscles screamed as I hauled another sandbag onto my shoulder, sweat dripping into my eyes. The drill was simple: carry the weight across the field, drop it, sprint back, repeat. Simple, but brutal.

Jaxon smirked as he passed me, his own sandbag slung effortlessly over his shoulder. “Still struggling, *Aiden*? Maybe you’re not cut out for this.”

I gritted my teeth, refusing to acknowledge him. My arms trembled, the binding around my chest digging into my ribs with every labored breath. *Don’t stop. Don’t show weakness.*

“Ignore him,” Finn panted, falling into step beside me. His face was beet-red, his steps wobbling. “He’s just trying to get in your head.”

“It’s working,” I muttered, adjusting the sandbag.

Headmaster Thorn’s voice boomed across the field. “Faster! An Alpha doesn’t falter!”

My vision blurred, the world narrowing to the rhythm of my footsteps and the ache in my bones. Memories flickered at the edges of my mind—my father’s voice, patient and steady. *“Endurance isn’t just physical, Aria. It’s here.”* He’d tapped his temple. *“Your mind will fail before your body does.”*

A cramp seized my side, and I stumbled, the sandbag thudding to the ground. Finn skidded to a stop. “Aiden—!”

“Keep going!” I snapped, waving him off. “Don’t let Thorn see you hesitate.”

He hesitated, then nodded, jogging ahead. I bent over, hands on my knees, gasping. The binding had slipped again, the fabric chafing raw skin.

“Pathetic,” Jaxon sneered as he circled back. “You’re holding everyone back.”

“Says the guy who nearly got his face clawed off by a rogue last week,” I shot back, straightening.

His smirk vanished. “Watch your mouth, *rookie*.”

“Enough!” Thorn barked, appearing suddenly between us. His cold gaze fixed on me. “If you can’t keep up, quit wasting my time.”

My fists clenched. “I *can* keep up.”

“Prove it.” He pointed to the obstacle course at the edge of the field—a gauntlet of ropes, walls, and mud pits. “Three laps. Now.”

Jaxon snorted. “Good luck surviving *that*.”

The other recruits paused to watch as I trudged to the starting line. My legs felt like lead, but I refused to let Thorn—or Jaxon—see me break.

“Begin!”

I launched forward, scaling the first rope wall. Halfway up, my arms gave out, and I slid back, scraping my palms raw. Gritting my teeth, I tried again, my father’s voice echoing in my head. *“Focus on the goal, not the pain.”*

By the second lap, my lungs burned, and my disguise felt like a cage. The binding constricted my ribs, each breath a struggle. Finn stood at the sidelines, his face pale. “Aiden, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“Don’t… need… your help,” I panted, hauling myself over a wooden barrier.

“Stubborn idiot,” Jaxon muttered, though he’d stopped smirking.

On the third lap, my legs buckled as I dropped into a mud pit. For a moment, I stayed there, the cool sludge a relief against my scorching skin. *Just rest. Just for a second…*

***Flashback:***

*I was twelve, racing my father through the woods. He let me win, as always, but this time I slammed my fists into his chest. “Stop treating me like a kid! I can handle it!”*

*He crouched, his eyes serious. “Being Alpha isn’t about winning races, Aria. It’s about knowing when to push… and when to let others help you.”*

*“I don’t need help!” I’d shouted, storming off.*

***Now:***

“Get up.”

I blinked, mud caking my eyelashes. Finn stood above me, hand outstretched. Behind him, even Jaxon watched silently.

“I said I don’t need help,” I growled, swatting his hand away.

“Yeah, well, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Finn snapped, uncharacteristically sharp. “You think your dad would want you to die here just to prove a point?”

The words struck like a slap. I stared at him, then at Thorn’s impassive face. *What am I doing?*

With a grunt, I grabbed Finn’s arm, letting him yank me to my feet. “Thanks,” I muttered.

He shrugged. “Don’t mention it. Ever.”

The final lap was a blur. I don’t know how I finished, but when I collapsed at the finish line, Thorn’s shadow fell over me.

“You’re reckless,” he said flatly. “But stubbornness has its uses.”

He walked away, leaving me stunned. Jaxon kicked dirt near my head. “Don’t let it go to your head, rookie.”

Finn helped me sit up, handing me a canteen. “You okay?”

“No,” I admitted, wincing as I touched a bruise on my ribs. “But I will be.”

That night, alone in the dorm, I peeled off the binding, hissing at the raw marks it left behind. My reflection in the window showed a stranger—short hair, gaunt face, eyes hardened by exhaustion.

“Who are you trying to be, Aria?” I whispered.

My father’s voice answered in my memory, gentle but firm. *“Yourself. Always yourself.”*

A knock startled me. Finn stood in the doorway, averting his eyes. “I, uh… brought salve. For the… you know.”

I yanked my shirt down, face burning. “You don’t have to—”

“I *know*,” he interrupted, setting the jar on my bed. “But you’re not the only one hiding things here.”

He left before I could respond.

The salve cooled my burns, but Finn’s words lingered. *Not the only one hiding.* Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought.