I wiped the sweat off my palms and adjusted my stance. Zevrin’s gym smelled of iron and leather, the faint tang of blood lingering somewhere in the back. My heart was still pounding from the drills he’d put me through; quick punches, defensive stances, footwork. Every muscle in my body ached but for the first time in weeks, I felt… ready.
Zevrin circled me like a predator, “Don’t drop your guard,” he said, voice low. “Always expect the unexpected.”
I nodded, trying to steady my breathing. “I won’t,”
He stopped in front of me, his hands raised to correct my posture. “Again. Left jab. Now.”
I moved. My punch cut through the air, sloppy but forceful. He deflected it, grabbing my wrist and twisting my arm in a smooth motion that almost made me stumble.
“Good. Faster. Sharper. Don't be sl
