The sun had barely crept over the treetops, casting long shadows across the training yard.
Marcus could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead as he focused on Dante.
He ducked under a swing and countered, his palm slamming into Dante’s broad chest, sending him stumbling back a few steps.
“Damn,”
Dante muttered, catching his balance with a grin. “You’re not fighting like a wolf who drank half a bottle last night.”
The few silver strands in Dante’s light brown hair shimmered in the sun as he shifted his feet.
Marcus rolled his shoulders, his breath even but clipped.
“I know why you weren’t there,” he said, pacing slowly across the packed dirt.
Dante’s grin faded. His posture shifted, muscles tightening in quiet defense.
After he’d shared with Dante the information Frank had pas
