POV: Luna
Combat training the next morning felt wrong from the start.
Cole was distant. Professional. None of the warmth I'd come to expect.
"Pair up for sparring drills," he announced to the class.
I waited for him to partner with me like he usually did during demonstrations.
Instead, he paired me with a senior I didn't know well. Marcus something.
"Luna, you're with Marcus. Work on defensive techniques."
"Okay," I said, confused by the brush-off.
Marcus was good. Really good. He came at me hard, not pulling punches like most students did when they sparred with me.
I blocked his first strike. Then his second.
On the third, something felt off.
His movements were too precise. Too practiced. Like he'd studied my fighting style specifically.
I countered and went on the offensive.
