[Ava's POV]
The training room smelled of dust and old leather. Ava stood at the center, feeling the cool, slightly damp air cling to her skin. Her heart hammered against her ribs, not from exertion, but from the pressure mounting inside her chest. Rhett stood across from her, his stance relaxed, but his eyes sharp—always watching, always analyzing.
“Focus,” he instructed, his voice steady, like the calm before a storm. “We’re starting with basic combat techniques, just in case your power goes rogue again.”
Ava’s fingers twitched at her sides. She hated how much he treated her like a ticking time bomb. Just in case. She wasn’t a kid anymore, but it still stung that Rhett thought she needed this level of control.
“I don’t need this, Rhett,” she snapped, meeting his gaze. “I’m not some we
