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The moment Griffin and Roman stepped into the center of the training hall, the atmosphere became serious. Although the commander said this was going to be a drill, the way Roman and Griffin eyed each other was enough proof it was going to be intense.

The commander barely announced the start when Roman, quick as a striking serpent, darted forward and landed a solid punch to Griffin’s face. The sharp crack sounded in the hall, and blood smeared across Griffin’s lips.

Violet’s jaw literally dropped to the ground. Was this really what the commander wanted from them? This wasn’t sparring; it was a brawl. If indeed, this was a drill, then they might as well be signing their death certificates.

Griffin wiped the blood from his mouth, his eyes narrowing in fury. The sight of the crimson streak across his hand provoked him. And just like that, his face twisted into a snarl as he charged at Roman with the force of a freight train.

Roman moved to dodge him, but Griffin’s strength and unrelenting barrage of punches were impossible to avoid entirely.

The sound of fists meeting flesh filled the room, and Violet winced even though she was never one to shy away from violence.

That was going to hurt for sure.

Blood splattered onto the floor as the two alphas clashed like titans, the dance of power versus speed quite mesmerizing.

Around her, the werewolves roared their approval, cheering as though this was some gladiator’s fight. They had got to be kidding her.

Her gaze shifted to the commander, and the one person she expected to intervene stood with his arms crossed, watching the fight intently with an analytical expression.

Unfortunately, the fight became so fierce that the students were forced to scramble out of the way as Roman and Griffin rolled across the ground, engaged.

When Roman managed to slam Griffin down, the sheer force of their bodies sent vibrations through the floor, and Violet couldn’t help but gasp.

The violence was raw and unrestrained, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to predict who would be the winner. Roman’s speed and agility kept Griffin on his toes, but Griffin’s great strength was just as formidable.

As the fight dragged on, Violet noticed that Roman speed was starting to falter and his moves became predictable. Griffin was tired as well, but he showed no sign of stopping either.

The two alphas locked each other in a vicious chokehold, their muscles straining as they each tried to overpower the other. Their faces became red with the veins on their neck bulging, and it became a battle of endurance.

Everyone watched in stunned silence, unsure whether they were witnessing a fight or a death match. And finally, the commander stepped forward and broke the tension.

"Thank you for the wonderful demonstration," he said evenly, cutting through the din of heavy breathing and shuffling feet.

But neither Griffin nor Roman seemed to hear him. More like they ignored him. They gripped each other tightly, neither of them willing to concede.

And that got the commander’s attention, his eyes darkening.

"I said, that’s enough!" He thundered.

At his roar, the two alphas reluctantly released each other, gasping for air. Their chests heaved as they glared at one another, each still unwilling to back down. It was known to everybody that out of all the cardinal alphas, Griffin and Roman were the most fierce rivals.

Alaric was the first to move, stepping forward to offer Griffin a hand. Although Griffin was still seething, he allowed his friend to pull him up. Asher in turn, sauntered over to Roman, and helped him to his feet, patting him on the back for a fight well done.

Both combatants were battered and bruised. Griffin’s busted lip had already sealed, though faint bruises lingered around his jaw. Roman, however, bore the brunt of the battle of a swollen black eye and a split cheek that were healing slower than he would have liked.

Murmurs rippled through the hall as Griffin and Roman exited to tend to their wounds. The room was buzzing with energy, the raw intensity of their fight still hanging in the air. The commander, however, was far from impressed.

"Although that was not the drill I was looking forward to..." Malakai muttered under his breath, his tone dry with disapproval. "I won’t have humans dying under my watch," he continued, louder this time. "Nonetheless, learn from what you saw."

Learn what? Violet thought with a wry smirk. How to get my face smashed in by two oversized egos? Great lesson.

The commander clapped his hands, snapping the class’s attention back to him.

"Now," he barked, "we’re moving on to today’s drill. Imagine you’ve been overpowered by someone stronger than you.

How do you get out of the situation? For this exercise, Alpha Asher will demonstrate.

And he’ll need a willing partner, preferably a human. "

At his words, the girls in the room practically lit up. The excitement was obvious as hands shot into the air and voices clamored for attention.

"Pick me, Asher!"

"No, me!"

"Asher, over here!"

"Use me Asher, I don’t care!"

The cacophony of eager volunteers made Violet cringe. What in the moon was wrong with these people? She glanced around at the desperate crowd.

And then, as if the gods had a cruel sense of humor, Elsie Lancaster stepped forward with a bored expression, swaying her hips. She walked with purpose, her eyes locked on Asher, as if she was the only logical choice he needed. It was the kind of confidence that made everyone else fall silent.

But Asher didn’t even glance at her.

Instead, to Violet’s absolute horror, he began walking toward her.

Oh, hell no.

Panic set in. Violet’s fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and without thinking, she turned on her heel and bolted.

"Get back here, little purple!" Asher called after her, his voice dripping with amusement.

But Violet wasn’t about to stick around. "Not happening, you asshole!" she yelled over her shoulder, weaving between the students like her life depended on it.

Well, it actually did.