Roxanne and Ashkareth sat side by side, their bodies still aching from the intense sparring match that had rocked the training yard to its foundation. Blood streaked their faces, their breaths heavy and uneven. The air still carried the scent of scorched magic and cracked stone. Despite the pain, both father and daughter wore faint, satisfied smirks, the kind shared only between two alphas who refused to yield.
Mara knelt between them, her hands glowing with soft golden light as she worked. Her magic seeped into Ashkareth's chest first, the warmth mending fractured ribs and torn muscle fibres. Each time the light pulsed, his skin knit back together as though time itself had reversed.
She sighed as she wiped sweat from her forehead, already sensing the argument forming before a single word was said. "What's next?" she muttered, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. "Don't tell me you plan to challenge my cousin next."
