The cold air bit at Adrianna's skin as she braced herself, sweat trickling down her temple despite the chill. The ruined courtyard was lit only by torches flickering against crumbling stone walls, casting jagged shadows across the cracked ground. The scent of ash, steel, and damp stone hung heavy in the air.
Acantha moved like a shadow through the training circle, her footsteps soundless, her violet eyes fixed sharply on Adrianna. She was all muscle and precision, wrapped in dark leather, her silver braid coiled tight like a whip against her back.
"Again," Acantha ordered, voice sharp as a blade drawn too fast.
Adrianna sucked in a breath and lunged, the dagger in her hand slicing through the air — but Acantha twisted aside with a fluid grace, her arm snapping up to strike Adrianna's shoulder with the flat of her palm. Adrianna stumbled, biting back a curse.
"Too slow," Acantha murmured, eyes glittering. "Too predictable."
