Simon's POV
From the far end of the training field, I leaned against a tree, arms folded across my chest, pretending to be there for no particular reason. But my eyes never left her.
Aisha.
She was kneeling by a patch of wild herbs, her hands moving fluidly as she spoke to the young warriors gathered in a semi-circle around her.
Her voice was calm but commanding, each word landing with precision. And that laugh, it was soft, bright, unguarded when someone asked a foolish question, it sent a heat curling low in my stomach.
I watched the way her fingers gently crushed yarrow leaves, how the sun highlighted the sweat at her temples, and I imagined those hands on me again—soothing, exploring, claiming.
She was brilliant and focused. So damn sexy it hurt.
But the thing th
