Kael
I knelt on the cold, cracked tiles of the warehouse floor, hands resting on my thighs, my breathing steady despite the storm churning inside me. The door opened and then slammed shut as the sound of hurrying footsteps approached me.
I didn't look up; I didn't need to.
Without warning, a heavy slap landed across my cheek. My head tilted with the force of the hit, my skin stinging, and my ears ringing.
The man standing over me, holding up his phone with his eyes red with fury, was my Master. No one knew his real name; we all called him Master.
He had given me a life when no one else wanted me.
I didn't know my parents; I had no recollection except for fragments of a dream about my childhood. However, at 7, I was moving from one pack to another, fighting in rings for the entertainment of Alphas and high-ranking werewolves.
