(Ryan's POV)
The weight of the morning still clung to me like a second skin.
I should have been focused. I should have been in the moment, blocking strikes and anticipating movement as I sparred with one of my father’s warriors in the training ring. But my mind wasn’t here. It was still back in the woods. Still standing in the rain, staring at Ashleigh’s vacant expression.
“Focus, Ryan.” My father’s voice cut through the air, sharp and disapproving.
I barely dodged the next swing in time. My opponent's fist grazed my ribs before I managed to twist away. I countered on instinct, landing a controlled blow to his shoulder, but I knew my father had already seen my slip in concentration.
My irritation spiked—not at him, but at myself.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I pushed harder, lett
