POV: RykerThe training room is freezing, a sharp, biting cold that clings to the ventilation ducts and seems to seep directly into the concrete floor, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything except the rhythmic, heavy, jarring thud of Ayla’s feet against the mat. We started at four in the morning, long before the sun had dared to peek over the jagged horizon of the compound, and I haven't let her stop for a single second. No warm-up, no polite check-ins, no patience for the delicate, fragile girl she was when we first brought her into this world. I want to see the threshold of her endurance. I want to know exactly how much pressure she can take, how much weight she can carry, and how much pain she can absorb before the mysterious, locked seal in her chest finally cracks wide open."Again," I bark, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings as I circle her like a predator in a ring.Ayla doesn't pant; she doesn't gasp for air. She doesn't complain, and she certainly doesn't beg f
Última actualización : 2026-08-19 Leer más