Willow.
The training yard was alive with sweat and barked orders as recruits circled the dummies and instructors paced like wolves on a scent. I was back in my skin or rather, the version of me that passed for Willow top of the Nightshade War Institute.
Bandages bound my chest again and my voice lowered into that carefully studied monotone. Everything tight and clean and f*****g controlled until she decided to show up out of the blue.
I saw her out of the corner of my eye: blonde, graceful and face full of smug little secrets. She had no armor on just sleek black training pants and a fitted vest she clearly wore for effect. Her hair was in some impractical style that screamed “I’m not actually here to sweat.”
She was talking to Damon and she was standing way too close. She laughed a
