Chapter 22
RYN POV I dropped into a loose fighting stance, keeping my weight light on the balls of my feet. Riv watched me carefully, the smirk never leaving his lips as he mirrored my posture—only his movements were smoother, more dangerous, like he was born to it. Probably because he was. The first pass was cautious. A testing dance. He struck first—fast. I dodged, but barely. The air where his fist should’ve connected brushed my cheek like a kiss from death itself. Gods, he was good. Too good. I grinned anyway, heart pounding with exhilaration. It had been too long since I fought someone who didn’t pull punches, who didn’t underestimate me because of my size or the fact that I didn’t growl and posture like some of the rebels did. We circled each other, trading blows. Each time, he moved lik
- Writer
