CHAPTER 5“Again,” Sera said.Elena’s arms were shaking.She’d lost count of how many times she’d run the drill—block, pivot, strike, reset. Somewhere past thirty, her body had made its opinion very clear about continuing toward forty.The small bump at her stomach was barely visible beneath her loose clothes. It was enough, though, for Sera to adjust every exercise, shortening the drills and cutting anything that could send Elena into a hard fall.Elena hated the adjustments almost as much as she needed them.“I said again,” Sera repeated.She didn’t raise her voice.Somehow, that was worse.Elena reset her stance and ran the drill again.They’d been doing this for three weeks. Physical training in the mornings. Something stranger in the evenings.The evening sessions belonged to Garrick, and they had nothing to do with fists or footwork.“Sit,” he told her that night.The fires had already been lit, and the rest of the camp had settled into its usual low hum of voices and clattering
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