TRINITY
It wasn't even six in the morning yet. But here I was, in the training room with a resolve, I have no clue of its origin. All I knew was that whatever I was going to find out at midnight, I needed to be strong.
Both physically and mentally.
The training room was quiet, except for the steady rhythm of my breath and the dull thuds of my fists against the punching bag. The morning air still held a slight chill, but sweat clung to my skin as I pushed myself harder, my body aching in protest.
I welcomed the pain.
Every strike carried the weight of my past. Every punch was a silent vow to never be the helpless girl I once was.
Weak.
The word echoed in my mind, taunting me. I had spent years hearing it, feeling it, believing it. The pack had called me weak, the triplets had doubt
