** Callen’s POV **

I let out a sharp whistle, and the kids freeze mid-sprint like someone hit pause. A couple of them groan, and a few flop dramatically into the grass, and one tiny omega throws his arms up and yells, “We demand extra time!”

I grin, shaking my head. “You demand nothing, Greyson. You barely ran the last round.”

Greyson pouts and then gives me a cheeky salute before dropping into the grass beside his friends. I make a mental note to tell his parents ...