LEAH
Sasha throws a towel at my face. Not gently. "Fists higher, you blink too much when you punch," she says, rolling her eyes.
I huff, catching the towel and wiping the sweat from my neck. "Sorry I'm not a born warrior with flawless eyebrows, and resting death face."
Her mouth twitches into something that looks like a smile. Or maybe it’s a snarl, it's hard to tell with Sasha.
We're alone on the eastern training grounds. Just us, a few dummies with stab wounds, and my aching pride. The morning sun burns hot against my back, and I'm already regretting saying yes to this session.
But I also don’t want to be weak anymore. Not when Lucian has decided not to mark me or provide a reasonable reason for not doing so. I just couldn't shake the feeling of rejection off of me, so training f
