The Alpha's Regret The Enemy's Claim
I felt my stomach tighten, but I forced my feet forward.
"No staff today?" I asked.
"Knives," he said simply. "If you can fight with a knife, you can fight with anything."
I picked one up, testing its weight in my hand. It was lighter than I expected, the handle wrapped in worn leather.
"First lesson," Xavia said, stepping closer to me. "The knife is not a weapon. It's an extension of your arm. You don't swing it. You guide it."
He moved behind me, his chest brushing against my back as he adjusted my grip. His hands were warm on mine, steady and sure.