(Rayla's POV)
By midday, the sun had risen high enough to glare off every metal blade in the training grounds. Ryan looked like he might keel over at any moment, so I finally held up a hand. “Enough. Lunch.” He collapsed. Not gracefully. More like a sack of laundry dropped from a roof. “Alive?” I asked. “Barely,” he wheezed. I nudged his leg with the toe of my boot. “Up. We’re eating.” He didn’t budge. “Ryan.” A groan. “Ryan.” Another groan, this one more tragic. I leaned down slightly. “You can lie there or you can eat. Those are your options.” His head snapped up instantly. “Food?” “There he is,” I said, stepping back so he could scramble upright. Scramble he did — awkward, shaky, but fast. His stomach growled loud enough that a few warriors turned to look. He flushed red and hunched h
