EMBER’S POV

The training room still wears the crack I put in the floor yesterday.

Hale sees it the moment we walk in, and her gaze snags on it, and something moves across her face, hunger, interest, gone before I can name it.

She rolls her narrow shoulders and steps onto the mat like a woman lowering herself into a warm bath.

“Rules?” I ask.

“No rules.” She lifts her hands. She’s small. Elegant. Not the least trained for a fight. “That was rather the whole point, wasn’t it, dove. Whenever you’re ready.”

I go in.

And she’s gone.

I don’t even see how she does it. One second I’m...