The track stretched wide and long, lined with obstacles—barrels, wooden hurdles, pits of sand, even narrow water trenches. I had heard from Rachel that there were mines too, and from the grim looks of some riders, I knew it wasn't a rumor.

There were also whispers of nails hidden in the dirt that would spring up without warning, shredding hooves and spilling riders onto the cruel ground. Blood was expected here; death was a spectator's entertainment. They called it a race, but everyone knew it was war disguised as sport.

Hail the three bloody Lycans. They really had learnt from their father, and had even become worse.

War chants rose...