Marked As Theirs
Chapter 27
Cecilia Whitlock’s POV
15 YEARS AGO,
The mid-day air was wet with the kind of stupid heat that made your shirt stick to your back. It made my neck itch. I hated training when it was this hot, but Adnam didn’t care.
I wiped my hands on my leggings and adjusted my grip on the wooden staff.
Across from me, Adnam was already in position, holding his own staff like he’d been born with it.
Which, honestly, he probably had been.
“Come on, Cece,” he teased, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “You’re supposed to attack, not stare.”
I made a face at him. “I am. I'm thinking.”
He smirked. That cocky smirk he always had when he thought he had the upper hand.
“I’ll proof him wrong today,” I thought as I attacked.
