Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven.

Jaslyn

“So weak,” one of the ladies beside me said. Her words were accompanied by snickers from the others.

“So strong, yet your arm balance is so pathetic.” I retorted calmly. For the life of me, I couldn't engage in the swordfight they were currently practicing in. I learned my lesson after the first few trials when one of the women had nearly slashed down my shoulder. Yet I couldn't go back into the Fort.

Zeeland's instructions were clear. I had to practice ahead if I ever hoped to beat the Lunas from other packs. The ladies that were currently engaging in a duel were Armand and Benoit's toys, and they'd done nothing but try to get under my skin.

“I heard you were a slave before Zeeland bought you off,” one of them, a blonde, said giggling and looking at me mockingly. I didn't respond.

“No wonder I've been perceiving an odd smell. I bet you can't wash off the smell of a slave no matter how hard you try.” Blondie continued, and my hands clenche