Riven’s POV
The weakness came over me in morning training, a sudden flush that left me gasping down on my knees, and yet my sparring partner stood looking down at me mystified.
"Sir? Are you injured?" Marcus asked, lowering his practice sword with worry.
I forced myself to my feet, despite the tremble in my legs. "I'm fine.”
Only I wasn’t O.K., and we both knew it. I had been growing weaker and weaker for weeks. What had been easy — lifting weights that would stump regular-sized wolves and maintaining a pace that blew others away — now left me feeling wiped out and shaky.
"Riven." Kael's voice rang out in the training yard, incisive with frustrated command. "A word."
I followed my twin into the seclusion of our private study, and saw even his usually impeccable posture was a bit stif
