They made their way back to the pack, and the moment they arrived, Gérard informed her that her training would begin today. A mixture of nerves and anticipation coiled inside her, leaving her both anxious and oddly thrilled.
After getting dressed, she walked into the lounge with a confident sway in her step. Instead of heading toward the usual training grounds or the packhouse, Gérard led her down into the basement of the mansion to his private training room. The space was divided: one half fitted like a gym, the other left open and bare, clearly meant for sparring.
As Charlotte took in her surroundings, his dark gaze traced over her form, slow and deliberate. She wore a black sports bra paired with matching leggings, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. There was something effortlessly striking about her raw, unguarded, and undeniably alluring.
Sensing his stare, she turned toward him. He cleared his throat, his expression sharpening.
