Ash's POV
Ash's breath came out in sharp, ragged bursts as he tore through the forest, his legs pumping hard, his chest heaving. The cold night air cut into his skin, but he didn't care. He welcomed the sting, the pain. It was better than the suffocating pressure crushing his chest. Better than the anger burning through his veins. Better than the truth he was running from.
Opal. His baby sister. The smallest of them all. The one he had always protected. The one who was supposed to follow him, to depend on him. How could she—how could she—be the Alpha? It didn't make sense. It wasn't fair.
The clearing opened up in front of him, the moonlight casting pale silver light over the familiar training grounds. He had spent years here, pouring his sweat and blood into every punch, every strike, every movement. He had trained harder than anyone, pushed himself beyond his limits, all to prepare for this. To be Alpha. To lead. To protect.
It was his place. His purpose. His birthright.
