DANIEL’S POV
It was much easier to breathe when I pushed myself to the edge of exhaustion.
Not because it actually got easier, but because everything else went quiet.
The dreams didn’t disappear. They never did. They lingered at the edges of my mind. Fragments, too large to fully understand, pressed in whenever I slowed down enough to feel them.
So I didn’t slow down.
“Again.”
The boy across from me—Jonas—barely reset his stance before I moved. My foot pivoted, weight shifting as I closed the distance in a step.
He brought his arms up to block.
I adjusted mid-motion, redirected the strike just enough to catch his side rather than his guard, and pulled the impact at the last second so it didn’t land with full force.
He still grunted, stumbling back a step.
“Your center’s too high,” I said, lowering my hands. “You’re reacting instead of anticipating.”
Jonas rubbed his side, grimacing. “Easy for you to say.”
“It should be easy for you, too.”
