Dinner had been an experience, to say the least, but as we sat around the table after the rush had died down, the conversation shifted to the mysterious brand all warriors receive if they make it through preliminaries.

Wyatt, mid-bite of a taco, decided to chime in. “The brand is like our official seal. Once you’ve proven yourself, it links you to the warriors.”

I tilted my head, curious. “Links you how? Like a pack bond?”

“Exactly,” Nathaniel replied, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. “Think of it as a specialized pack link. We all come from different packs, and renouncing those bonds for training would be impractical. The brand creates a warrior-specific link without breaking your original one. It’s applied to the inside of your right wrist.” He raised his arm and pointed to the spot where his would eventually go. “Through it, you can communicate with your team on missions or even contact lead warriors, no matter the distance. Veterans say it’s a lifesaver.”

“That sounds incredible,” I admitted, though a knot of nerves twisted in my stomach. “But how does it work for someone like me? Warrior Hogan said I can’t go on missions until I’m sixteen, and that’s almost a year away. Am I stuck in a probationary period until then?”

Wyatt chuckled. “If they’ve brought you here this early, the Alpha King and Hogan already have plans for you. Stop stressing.”

“Right,” Nathaniel added, always the voice of reason. “The brand isn’t just for communication. It does something else too.”

“What’s that?” I asked, taking another bite of my burger.

“It shuts down your mating hormones.”

I choked on my water, coughing and sputtering as my brain tried to process the words. “It what?”

Nathaniel remained calm, as if he were explaining the weather. “The brand suppresses all the hormones tied to mating. No urges, no attraction. At all. You won’t sense your mate, and you won’t want to. It eliminates distractions—no relationships, no drama, no hooking up. With a hundred warriors living together, it’s essential. Keeps everyone focused.”

My jaw dropped. “That’s… a lot. What happens if someone wants to find their mate?”

“The brand is temporary,” Nathaniel explained. “It fades after a while. And every five years, the Alpha King mandates a sabbatical for warriors to travel and search for their mates.”

The explanation settled my initial panic, though unease lingered. “I can’t find my mate for another three years anyway, but having that choice taken away…”

“It’s not forever,” Wyatt reassured me, his voice unusually kind. “And most warriors are grateful for the focus it gives them.”

I turned to Nathaniel. “How do you know all this? That’s way more detail than what most people would know.”

Nathaniel hesitated, his steady gaze meeting mine. I could feel him gauging me, deciding whether I was trustworthy. After a moment, he spoke. “My dad was a warrior. He found my mom during one of his sabbaticals. She died when rogues attacked our pack, and it nearly killed him. He rejoined the warriors to deal with the bond-breaking pain.”

The table fell silent as Nathaniel’s words hung heavy in the air. There was a shared understanding in his eyes, something that spoke to the unspoken pain we both carried. I nodded slightly, acknowledging the connection without words.

The weight of the conversation didn’t linger long. A chime rang through the air, signaling cleanup time, and the room became a flurry of movement. Plates were scraped clean, tables wiped down, and warriors moved with practiced efficiency.

“What now?” I asked as we filed out of the dining hall, depositing our dishes in bins.

“Free time until lights out,” Lillian said, linking her arm through mine. “Some people hit the showers and crash. Others hang out in the common room. It’s really the only downtime we get.”

The next hour was a blur of mingling and quiet observation. The warriors were a mix of seasoned veterans and eager recruits, and their camaraderie was contagious. It was easy to see the hierarchy, though—older warriors commanded respect with little more than a glance, while the younger ones orbited them like planets to a sun.

By the time the warning chime for bedtime rang, I found myself reluctant to leave. Despite the grueling day, the energy in the compound felt alive, and I could already tell it was going to feel like home. A different kind of home, but home nonetheless.

As Lillian and I climbed the stairs, I asked her, “Do the chimes wake us up in the mornings too?”

“Nope, that’s the floor leader’s job,” she said with a knowing grin.

I groaned. “Of course it is. Can you check on me in the morning? My routine’s still off after the last month, and I don’t think Audrina likes me enough to make sure I’m up.”

Lillian laughed. “Sure. But she should check on you—it reflects badly on her if anyone on her floor is late or unprepared.”

“That’s good to know,” I muttered, feeling a flicker of satisfaction at the thought. “Thanks, Lillian. For everything today. I really appreciate having someone to talk to.”

“You’re a team player, Selene. So am I. We’ve got this,” she said with a wink before heading up to her floor.

When I got to my room, I found a folder waiting on my desk. Opening it, I saw my schedule for the week. Tomorrow was a school day, which meant I’d get to see Kylie. While I was eager to catch up with her, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I was ready to dive into training, not sit in a classroom.

Still, I reminded myself to stay positive. This was a chance to finish school early and focus entirely on my warrior training. A dream come true, even if it wasn’t unfolding exactly how I’d imagined.

I tossed and turned that night, not from fear or discomfort but from excitement. My new life was just beginning, and I was ready to embrace it—even the challenges that came with it.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. No alarm, no outlets. This place really did take the whole “separation from the outside world” thing seriously.

Tomorrow, I thought, starts the rest of my life.