The training grounds were quiet in the early morning, the air crisp and cool as the first rays of sunlight started to shine. I stood in the center of the ring, my hands tightened, my breath visible in the chilly air. Marcus stood across from me, his expression unreadable as he adjusted the straps on his gloves. He was a mountain of a man, his presence commanding and his movements precise. Today, he wasn’t just my trainer—he was my opponent.
“You’re holding back,” Marcus said, his voice gruff. “Again.”
I nodded, my heart pounding as I lunged at him, my movements quick but hesitant. He sidestepped me easily, his hand coming down on my shoulder with enough force to send me stumbling. I caught myself before I fell, my cheeks burning with frustration.
“I’m trying,” I said, my voice trembling
