Cole’s arm slips off me instantly. Tyler’s eyes go wide as saucers. Mats mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like“he’s fucked.”Shane actually crosses himself. Even Viktor pauses mid-rep, watching me with that stone-wall stare of his like he’s measuring whether I’ll rise or die here.
And Damian?
He just waits.
He doesn’t tap his foot. Doesn’t growl again. Just—waits. Like he already knows what I’ll do.
And god help me—I do it.
My arms shake as I shove off the mat. My legs tremble like they’re about to give out again. But I stand. Wobbling, swaying, teeth grit—but standing.
“Good,” he says.
And then—“Again.”
The groan that rips out of the boys is loud enough to shake the rafters. Tyler actually mutters,“Jesus Christ, Cap’s gonna kill him.”Cole’s grin falters for once. But I don’t care. I don’t fucking care.
Because I’m moving.
Burpees. Suicide sprints across the cracked floor. Push-ups until my arms lock and scream. Damian’s voice cuts through every rep like a blade, steady, sharp:“Lower, Mercer.”/“Faster.”/“Don’t you fucking quit.”
And I don’t.
Every muscle in me burns. My chest is splitting. My throat feels like sandpaper, but I’m still moving. Still giving him everything I’ve got, because it’s him. Because it’s his eyes on me. Because if I collapse again, it won’t be behind Cole. It won’t be behind anyone. It’ll be in front of him, and I can’t—Iwon’t—let that be what he sees.
Somewhere behind me, Cole whistles low. Mats mutters, “Kid’s insane.” Viktor grunts his approval. Shane mutters something about demonic possession. Tyler looks like he might puke just watching.
But I don’t stop.
Until my vision tunnels, my lungs burn like fire, and my body finally hits the floor —flat, trembling, every nerve fried.
And the last thing I hear before the black edges eat my vision is Damian’s voice, low, carved into my spine:
“Good boy.”
“Cap…are you actually trying to kill the kid?” one of the vets asks, half a laugh in his voice, half awe.
I don’t answer right away. My eyes are on Elias.
Flat on his back, chest heaving shallow, curls plastered to his forehead with sweat. The crazy little bastard gave me everything—everything—until he dropped. Fainted. Body wrung dry, but not once did he quit, not once did he look for a way out.
That’s why Tyler will never measure up to him.
That’s why soon enough, none of them will.
“If I wanted to kill him,” I say at last, “he’d be dead.”
The room goes quiet. Cole shuts his mouth mid-chirp. Tyler gulps hard enough I can hear it. Mats smirks faintly, like he knew I’d say it.
I bend, grab Elias under the arms, and haul him up. He’s limp, head lolling against my chest, legs dangling. My jaw ticks at the sight. Then I shift my grip and toss him over myshoulder, one arm locking him in place like he weighs nothing.
“Showers. Home. Go.” I dismiss them all.
They scatter fast. Cole limps toward the door, muttering something about writing his will. Shane makes the sign of the cross like he just survived the apocalypse. Mats yawns like none of this fazes him. Viktor doesn’t even blink, just grunts and follows.
Except Tyler.
He stays frozen, hunched on the mat, pale and wrecked. “I—I can’t move, Cap,” he stammers, clutching his thighs like they might split in two. “My legs—they don’t work anymore.”
