The training yard was empty now, its floor churned with footprints and some bloodstains not yet disappeared from last night.

Torches guttered along the walls, throwing ragged shadows that stretched across the abandoned arena.

Truett leaned against the stone pillar, his lip curled in a sneer.

Beside him, Bowen spat into the dirt, while Yandros shifted, restless, his eyes flicking toward the barracks where the others had long since disappeared.

"Do you ever think about it, Alpha ...