EZRA'S POV
I don't like this feeling.
It's like something's sitting on my chest. Heavy. Low. Quiet. But there. It's been there for days now. Maybe weeks. I keep brushing it off, telling myself it's just the weight of being old. But no. That's not it.
It's Asher.
I lean against the railing outside the training arena. Arms crossed. Eyes narrowed.
They are out there again. The recruits. Running drills. Sparring. Shouting. Sweating. The usual noise. It's all organized chaos. But my focus is locked on one person.
Asher.
He's not in uniform today. He's moving between the recruits, yelling commands, correcting stances, and jumping in to show how it's really done. He's good at this. Natural. His voice carries without effort. His presence commands attention without force. Tha
