Emma
The next morning, the training grounds felt different.
Less like a spectacle and more like a test.
Snow had been shoveled into uneven piles at the edges, leaving the main clearing mostly clear but still slick in places. The sky was a pale, washed-out gray, the kind of winter light that made everything look sharper. Warriors were spread out in small groups—sparring, stretching, running drills—but the moment Lucian and I stepped outside together, people subtly shifted, giving us space without making it obvious.
I knew they were watching anyway.
“Ready?” Lucian asked quietly, stopping as we arrived at the clearing where I’d shifted for the first time.
Was anyone ever ready to break themselves on purpose?
“Define ready,” I said, breath puffing white. “If I say no, do we go back ins
