Melissa’s pov

The fight finally ended even before the instructor blew his whistle. I was on my knees, coughing dirt and blood, my ribs aching like they had been ground to powder. My vision swam, but I refused to let it blur into blackness as I barely stayed upright.

Joem stood over me, his chest heaving heavily, and sweat slicked the dark strands of his hair. He leaned close enough that only I could hear him, his shadow swallowing me whole.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his voice was so low it chilled me more than his fists had. “Do you squeal like a girl when you break?”

My head snapped...