Freya's POV
The training ground was silent except for the sound of my fists hitting the punching bag. My knuckles burned, but I didn't stop. I was unable to stop. War was the driving force behind every blow, every swing, and every ounce of effort.
"Harder," yelled Kade behind me, "you believe that Darius will relax because you're exhausted?"
I clenched my jaw and swung once more. "I'm not worn out."
"Good," he said, his voice cold and unyielding. "Because you're not ready yet. Not even close."
Sweat ran down my cheeks, but I kept running. I had to be powerful, stronger than ever before. I was propelled onward by the notion of Darius and what he had done to my mother.
At last, Kade remarked, "Take five." "After that, we'll discuss strategy."
I took a step back and leaned against the closest tree after nodding. I disregarded the protesting screams from my muscles.
