Kiara POV.
I stood there, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps, my body trembling with exhaustion. My arms ached from the strain of pulling water from thin air, and my hands stung where the energy had burned against my skin. I had pushed myself too far, but I didn't care. I had done it. I had fought. I had proven, if only to myself, that I wasn't weak.
But my victory was short-lived.
Pain flared in my side, sharp and unrelenting, and I gritted my teeth, refusing to acknowledge it. I was fine. I had to be fine.
Veryon, however, wasn't fooled.
"You're hurt," he said, stepping toward me.
"I'm fine," I snapped, trying to straighten, but the moment I moved, a fresh wave of pain shot through me. Damn it. I must have strained something—or worse.
Veryon sighed, shaking his head. "You're as stubborn as ever."
