Kyla was on fire.
Her arms burned. Her muscles burned. Hell, even her lungs burned. But it was good. A welcome distraction.
It was better than ninety percent of the feelings she got, thinking about Albert's broken expression as he walked away from her.
Jace, being a silent support system, held a punching bag in place as she laid into it, gritting her teeth and punching it in a way she knew she could never punch a person, not unless she wanted to end their life.
