Bare soles met cold gravel.
The sting was immediate—sharp, biting.
“Walk to the ridge’s peak. Kneel. And do not rise until I say so,” he said, letting each word settle like a weight.
Not an order.
A sentence.
I pushed forward, every step a battle against the chill crawling up my spine.
When I reached the ridge’s peak, a shiver of fear ran through me.
Below, the jagged drop of the training cliff plunged into darkness, and the wind howled around the stones like voices warning me to turn back.
Scattered around the ridge were the remnants of past drills—broken boards, splintered stakes, and the sharp steel spikes of training dummies that had been flung and forgotten.
My chest tightened, and I almost froze—but Renzo’s glare pinned me in place.
Not daring to hesitate, I lowered myself carefully.
The moment my knees touched the stone, agony ripped through me—sharp, merciless, as jagged edges bit into flesh and bone.
I sucked in a breath that escaped between clenched teeth, the pain burning through every nerve.
There was no adjusting.
No position that eased it.
Every shift only found a new kind of hurt.
Renzo stood over me, quiet for a long moment.
Then, his voice broke the silence—barely above a whisper:
“I’m sorry, Elena.”
I looked up at him.
There was something in his eyes—conflict, guilt, restraint.
Something that wanted to help but knew better than to try.
A small, humorless smile tugged at my lips despite the pain.
“You did nothing wrong,” I whispered, my voice trembling with pain.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for... Renzo... I’m... I’m just thankful you survived.”
A sharp stone dug into my knee, and a cry of agony tore from me.
I winced, gasping through clenched teeth.
“I was... I was worried... I thought you might have died... in that dark cell...”
My chest heaved as the pain tore through me. “This... this is my fate...”
I groaned, each sound carrying my torment, the jagged stone beneath me whispering that the longer I remained, the sharper its bite would only grow more unbearable as time dragged on.
