The sun was warm against Jace’s back as he stepped onto the training ground again, freshly bandaged but burning with anticipation. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed this—the crunch of boots against gravel, the whistle of arrows slicing the air, the sharp bark of instructors commanding form and focus.
He grinned.
“I’m back,” he muttered to himself.
Across the field, Rayne was in her stance already, eyes narrowed at the dummy in front of her. She moved fluidly, efficiently—like a blade in motion.
He jogged toward her, heart lifting. “Hey, warrior.”
She turned, startled for a second, then smiled softly. “Hey.”
He expected her to hug him or at least punch him in the arm like old times, but she only gave him a nod and turned back to her stance.
Odd.
Jace didn’t say anything a
