Grace's face hit the mud. Again.
"Get up," Diana said.
For the eighth time that morning, Grace pushed herself to her knees and spat out dirt. And what she really hoped was just rainwater, because honestly? This training yard behind the inn had turned into a complete shitshow overnight. Every step was like wrestling with quicksand that wanted to steal her boots and her dignity.
"This is impossible," Grace muttered, struggling to stand upright.
The wind immediately slapped her sideways.
Diana hadn't moved a muscle. She stood there like the storm was just a light breeze, rain streaming down her abs, hair whipping around her face. Of course she'd chosen to train topless in a borderline hurricane. Because why wouldn't she?
"You think the Primal's gonna wait for good weather?" Diana asked, raising her voice over the howling wind.
Grace wiped mud from her eyes and lunged forward. Her foot slipped on the slick ground. She went down hard, shoulder-first into the muck with a wet splat.
