Alex
The training pavilion reeked of sweat, and fresh-cut grass. Morning sun sliced through the rafters, dappling the sanded floors with gold and shadow. The clang of swords, the c***k of bone against padded mats, the sharp bark of instructors echoing commands—all of it usually grounded me, reminded me where I belonged in the hierarchy of Blackwood.
Today, it only grated my already fraying nerves.
I sat cross-legged on the edge of the sparring ring, elbows resting on my knees, nails tapping irritably against each other as my gaze flicked between Atlas and Jace. They sat in stony silence on the opposite bench, arms folded, bodies taut with unspoken animosity.
Atlas’s eyes were fixed straight ahead, unblinking, jaw clenched so tight I wondered if he tasted blood. His raven-black hair fel
