{Elira}
~**^**~
I swallowed hard, feeling my faint hope crumble into the floor beneath me.
Lennon whistled low from the side as he watched with both hands on his waist. "Ouch. No mercy today."
Zenon did not glance at him. His eyes remained fixed on me. "Ready stance."
My pulse raced, but I obeyed. I bent my knees, my weight balanced, and my arms lifted. I could already feel the burn building in my muscles.
He circled me slowly, silent, the way a predator might circle before striking. Every movement of his was measured, efficient and deliberate.
I barely had time to nod before he moved quickly.
His foot swept low, testing my balance. I stumbled back, recovering just in time to block his next strike. The force rattled through my bones.
"Again," he said, not even out of breath.
He came at me harder this time. I blocked, missed, pivoted—too slow, his hand clipped my shoulder, and I hit the mat hard enough for air to rush out of my lungs.
