Damon's POV
The training field was quiet except for the rhythmic sounds of my claws slicing through the air. The sun was high, beating down on my bare back as I moved through a series of defensive strikes. It wasn’t for show—this was as much about clearing my head as it was about staying sharp. After everything we’d been through, staying sharp felt like the only way to keep my sanity.
Ronan stood on the edge of the field, arms crossed as he watched. I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or bored out of his mind. Probably both. His expression had that mix of stoicism and restlessness I’d come to associate with him.
“You planning to jump in, or are you just here for the view?” I called, tossing the blade to my other hand.
Ronan smirked, stepping closer. “I was waiting to see if you’d tire
