He moved like a natural-born warrior, dismantling three enormous men with precision and skill that seemed otherworldly. It wasn’t just strength—it was the combat training you’d expect from someone who’d grown up alongside the most elite fighters. One moment, he was my sort-of-ex turned into a nonnegotiable teammate. Next, he was a force of nature, beating the men who threatened to take me to a pulp.
And then the cavern collapsed.
Willingly, I allowed Rhodes to “kidnap” me the next day. We traveled so deep into the mountains that I doubt the place even appears on any map. The sunken peninsula or plateau—whatever it was—remained nameless in my mind, but it didn’t matter. It was hidden, serene, and, most importantly, it felt like it was ours.
The day passed in a blur of training without my elements. Rhodes pushed me harder than I had ever been pushed, focusing on self-defense moves tailored to my size. And he didn’t take it easy on me—not once. Every time I failed, he made me try again, pushing me to my limit. He wouldn’t stop until I proved myself, and the only way to earn my daggers—the ones he’d crafted for me—was to disarm them from his sheaths after taking him down in each move.
The feeling of his body pressed against mine as I slid my daggers free, our breaths mingling…
No. I’m supposed to be pissed.
“Tell me something that will piss me off,” I said to Lakota.
“The Grim sabotaged the campaign.”
That’ll do it.
Rhodes hopped over the wooden rail, landing beside the tall man who was talking with Fallon. He leaned forward on the rail, his ankles crossed, with a determined look etched across his face. His eyes flicked between Fallon and me, his expression unreadable, while Rhodes’s was the complete opposite.
“Take. Her. Down,” Rhodes mouthed.
I turned and walked to the center of the ring, ignoring how much his words meant to me. Fallon stood waiting, arms crossed, with an impatient smirk tugging at her lips. The sun beat down relentlessly, but the cool air did little to soothe my heated skin. Sweat dripped down my spine. My heart hammered in my chest.
Thunder roared overhead, and I looked up. Lakota’s massive form sliced through the clouds, his wings casting a fleeting shadow over the arena as he circled above.
He was threatening Fallon.
My sister stepped into my space. “No elements. I know Mageia coddles its cadets with no hand-to-hand combat, so I’ll take it easy on you,” she said, finishing with a wink before backing away into her stance.
Her arrogance was suffocating. She had the nerve to treat me like I was lesser when she had no idea what I’d been through, what I’d survived. I might not have been a trained fighter, but I wasn’t a quitter.
Muscle memory kicked in, and I slid into the stance Rhodes had drilled into me. Knees bent, body angled, fists up. I shoved aside the urge to crawl back into bed and clung to my simmering anger toward fate. For the first time, I had the chance to truly fight my biggest villain.
Myself.
It helped that the person in front of me was like looking in a mirror.
I lunged forward with a right hook, but Fallon blocked it effortlessly with her forearm, her smirk widening as if taunting me. We circled, a deadly dance, untold history crackling between us, begging for fuel. The crowd roared, but I tuned the noise out.
Fallon feinted left and struck right, her fist slamming into my shoulder before I could process her movement. I stumbled, barely catching myself before hitting the ground.
“Too slow,” Fallon taunted, weaving gracefully aside as I threw a sloppy punch. She dodged with ease and took advantage. My guard wasn’t up, and she moved too fast. Her foot hooked behind my ankle, sweeping me clean off my feet. I hit the dirt hard, the breath ripped from my lungs.
Lakota trilled in the sky.
Fallon leaned over me, her shadow blocking the sun. “Better muzzle your dragon before he fights your battles for you.”
Rage coursed through me as I scrambled to my feet, fists clenched. I lunged for her midsection, but she sidestepped again, catching my wrist mid-strike and twisting it behind my back in a sharp, practiced motion.
She leaned in close, her voice a smug whisper in my ear. “You’re sloppy and predictable. Try harder.”
“I thought you were supposed to beteachingme,” I growled through gritted teeth.
Her grip tightened, twisting my arm further, and I bit back a scream. “Lesson one, the most important one—don’t let your enemy knock you down.”
I jerked away, stumbling as she released me. My muscles screamed in protest, but I forced myself to focus. I swung again, adesperate uppercut that grazed her chin. It wasn’t much, but the satisfaction of seeing her stumble back lit a fire in my chest.
Fallon touched her jaw, her expression hardening from smug amusement to something darker. Her eyes narrowed, and before I could react, she spun into a roundhouse kick that sent me sprawling face-first into the dirt.
