Roland rubbed his shoulder, wincing as he stepped out of the training field.
His shirt was damp with sweat and anger. He didn’t realize how long he’d been at it until the sky began to dim and the ache in his body outmatched the ache in his chest.
He needed a distraction. Or a punch in the face. Whichever came first.
So he found Cole.
---
Cole was on the back terrace of Nightbound’s main building, sipping something that looked too expensive to drink shirtless.
He glanced up as Roland approached, eyebrows raised at the state of him.
“Training or war?” Cole asked.
“Bit of both.” Roland dropped onto the opposite seat with a grunt. His hands were bandaged now, though blood seeped through the gauze where the skin had split worst.
Cole passed him the drink without asking. “You look lik
