Twenty-five days, three hours and eleven minutes
Twelve
Thirteen...
That's how long she's been married to Cain Pendragon, and the number of days she's begun her training all over again.
The Obsidian Claw training grounds lay in a wide basin carved directly into black stone, ringed with iron posts and weapon racks scarred from decades of use.
The air was cold enough to sting her lungs, and the earth packed hard and unforgiving beneath her boots. Torches burned low at the edges, just enough to see a little.
It's been weeks since she last slept, and her eyes were heavy with grief and pain. Instead, she spent all her night here at the training grounds.
She wore fitted black training leathers stripped of the Pack's insignia - one she has ripped off herself. The sleeves were torn short at the shoulders, and the fabric darkened with sweat. Her hair was braided tightly down her back, already damp, strands escaping to cling to her neck.
