The sound of bodies hitting the ground echoed across the training field as Zayn circled his opponent. Sweat glistened on his bare chest, his muscles tense and ready to strike. Three warriors already lay defeated on the sidelines, groaning in pain.
“Get up,” Zayn growled at the fourth trainee sprawled in the dirt. “The enemy won’t give you time to catch your breath.”
The young warrior, barely twenty, struggled to his feet. His lip was bleeding, and he could barely stand straight. Still, he raised his fists, determination blazing in his eyes despite the fear.
Zayn didn’t wait. He lunged forward, feinted left, then struck with brutal precision. The warrior crashed to the ground again, this time spitting blood.
“Again!” Zayn barked.
“That’s enough, Zayn.” Ezra stepped forward from the crowd that had gathered to watch. His voice was firm, the only one who dared challenge the Alpha.
Zayn glared at his Beta. “They need to be prepared.”
