The next morning, Ariana woke to the sharp, rhythmic thud of fists striking leather. It wasn’t the heavy, chaotic noise of full combat—more like the steady pulse of a heart she could feel in her bones.
Curiosity pulled her to the window. Below, in the courtyard, Kael was training shirtless, the early sunlight glinting off the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. His movements were fluid, predatory—controlled power wrapped in grace.
Her gaze lingered longer than it should have.
As if sensing her, Kael stilled mid-strike and looked up. His eyes locked on hers through the distance, sharp and deliberate. There was no mistaking it—he’d known she was watching all along.
“Come down,” his voice carried, deep and commanding, even without a shout.
She hesitated. “Why?” she called back.
“Because y
