Valerie's POV: Once the crowd began to disperse into smaller, whispering clusters, I turned my attention to the one person whose anger worried me the most. I followed the rhythmic, heavy thud... thud... thud echoing from the training basement. Down here, the air smelled of old sweat, leather, and iron. In the center of the floor, Valerian was systematically destroying a heavy canvas punching bag. His knuckles were raw, split open and bleeding slightly, but he didn't care. He was throwing his entire body weight into every hook, his green eyes wide and wild with a dangerous, unstable fury. Standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his massive chest, was Igor. The dark-skinned trainer didn't have a bead of sweat on him, his pale, unnaturally still eyes tracking the boy’s movements with clinical precision. Igor didn't breathe and his presence alone was a stabilizing anchor for my son. “Again, brat,” Igor said, his voice a low, gravelly baritone that sounded like grinding stones. “Yo
Last Updated : 2026-05-16 Read more