Ouch.
We step onto the training field, the sun already glaring down, merciless. It drives another spike of pain through my skull, the heat oppressive.
My legs feel like lead. Thane, of course, moves with that same precise, effortless control—his shoulders taut, his posture just a little too rigid.
I feel like I’ve been scraped off the floor. And not just because of the wine.
Because oflast night. Because I put myself out there. Because I kissed someone else just to pretend I didn’t care—and all I wanted was for him to look at me like he didbeforehe turned away.
But I won’t let him see that.
Thane turns, that stupid mask of control still on his face.
“The enchantments will be lighter today so you’re going to feel the hits more than other times. But this will ward against serious injury.”
He lifts a hand. Elemental magics shimmer across the training field—settling over us like a spring rain.
I swallow the rising bile. Not only is he training me when I have the hangover from hell, he’s going to make the hits feel harder.
Great. Full impact, no but lasting damage. Lucky me.
I fold one leg, ankle to backside, stretching, then the other. Then I brace myself. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
The moment I move, he’s there. No hesitation. No warning.
He sweeps in low, forcing me to react—my sluggish body barely keeping pace. I parry the first strike, but he’s relentless. A punch. A sidestep. A sharp kick to my ribs.
I block some. Not all. Pain flares where the kick landed. I stumble, breath hissing through my teeth.
“Sloppy,” he says, flat. “You’re slow.”
“I’m hungover,” I say through gritted teeth, holding my side.
“Your enemies won’t care,” he snaps. “Dig deeper.”
I blow out a breath, shaking off the pain.
Fine.
If this is how he wants to play it—I’ll play.
I summon fire to my palms. Flames roar to life—crackling at my fingertips. I hurl a blast toward him.
He dodges effortlessly, counters with a surge of fire. Our blasts collide mid-air—heat flaring between us before flickering out. Then he’s moving again—fast. Too fast for my sluggish mind to track.
A sharp strike to my arm. Another to my leg. I barely catch my balance before I’m forced to defend again.
I throw another fireblast—angry, unfocused—but he meets it with his own. His flames twist around mine, redirecting the heatin a perfect arc that dissipates harmlessly into the air.
I curse under my breath. He’s not just testing me. He’s making a point.
Fine.
I shift—call on the earth beneath me. The ground bucks like a catapult, hurling me forward.
The sudden momentum catches him off guard—just for a breath. But it’s enough.
Thane reacts fast—fire blazing from his palms. He blasts the rock midair, shattering it into debris. The flames don’t stop there—they roar forward in a scorching wave, licking at my skin.
