Zylia’s POVBy the third night, my arms refused to lift the blade.Raven didn’t care.“Pain means progress,” she said, circling me like a hawk. “Or death. Guess we’ll see which one wins.”My arms trembled, muscles screaming from nights without rest. Every movement sent sparks of pain up my shoulders, but Raven only watched, eyes sharp, waiting for me to break.The handle slipped from my fingers again, clattering against the stone. “I can’t,”“You can.” Her voice cracked like a whip. “Pick it up.”I did. Because she scared me more than my own exhaustion.Sweat slicked my neck, my palms raw from the wooden grip. The moonlight carved her face into angles , sharp, severe, unyielding. I swung again. Missed again.She shoved me hard enough that I stumbled back into the dirt. “Stop fighting the ground and fight me, pup.”“I’m trying!”“No. You’re surviving. There’s a difference.”She lunged, blade flashing. I dodged barely, breath ripping from my chest.Every strike she threw was faster, har
Last Updated : 2025-10-16 Read more