Evening had settled over the compound with a heavy, copper-tinted sky when Raphael finally stepped off the sparring grounds.
Sweat clung to him like a second skin, and every muscle whispered its exhaustion, but his mind wouldn't quiet. Not tonight. Not when everything inside him was coiled tight, waiting for the hour of the challenge to arrive. The air tasted of dust and nerves.
Training with Elijah had drained him, but it also sharpened everythinghis instincts, his purpose, the quiet brutality humming beneath his skin. He swiped a hand over his forehead, pulling stray strands of hair back as he entered the corridor that led toward the living quarters.
He needed a shower. A moment to reset. A sliver of silence before the night devoured him whole.
He'd barely taken five steps into the hallway when one of the guards approached him with hurried footsteps and a stiff bow.
"Alpha," the guard said, voice taut. "One of the vampires is requesting an audience with you."
