Lita glanced at the clock again and groaned her body into moving. Every day she pushed her body, it was supposed to get better, easier, at least that’s what

Cole promised. In some things it held true. Like when she easily threw Brody out of his submission move yesterday or when she nearly took Mark’s head off with a punch earlier that week. But in others, like the maddening stiffness she felt everywhere and the constant ache of her worn muscles, it wasn’t. And while she did feel stronger, she also felt worried about what she could do with that strength. What kind of closure would she get in the next few weeks?

She wished she could say the same for Nyx but the wolf was positively jumping for joy every day. Not a shadow of worry to be found anywhere. Nyx loved the fighting, loved to bite and scratch at Ace all for the chance to make things more even between them. Her pride wasn’t delicate but it was still wounded each day he bested them. Especially on the days he beat them badly.

Nyx favored the runs with Brody the most, bursting as hard and as fast as she could through the surrounding woods and the complex. She wasn’t feral, at least not in the way she was supposed to be, but she certainly favored violence to mercy, inflicting pain to discussing compromise, and killing first, asking questions later. That was what Lita could glean from behind the scenes at least. Nyx’s mind was so clear and focused when she trained and there was never a flicker of doubt which was as impressive as it was alarming.

After wrangling herself out of the bed and into her clothes, Lita tied her shoes, grabbed her headphones and headed downstairs for a warm up jog. If she

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