TENNA.
I read the feint in Kara's hips and shifted my weight left half a second before she committed to the strike.
Her fist whistled past my ear instead of connecting with my jaw. I used the opening to drive my elbow into her ribs hard enough that she grunted.
"Better," she said while pivoting to face me again. "You're reading me faster."
We'd been at this for over an hour already. Sweat soaked through my tank top and my muscles screamed with exhaustion, but I kept my stance solid the way Elliot had drilled into me. Feet shoulder-width apart. Weight distributed. Center of gravity low.
Kara came at me again and I blocked the first two strikes before countering with a combination Rowan had taught me—jab, cross, hook. She deflected most of it but I caught her shoulder with the hook a
