By the time the training session finally wound down, Iris had constructed a fragile fortress of denial around herself. She had convinced herself that the morning had simply been an off day, the kind of ordinary, human lapse in performance that happened to every soldier eventually.
She told herself the dizziness, the distraction, the weakness—it was all just exhaustion, nothing more.
She nearly succeeded in believing her own lie. She almost made it out of the hall, her mind already shifting toward the practicalities of her next duty, until she took the shortcut past the training hall's side entrance.
Then, the fortress crumbled.
There they were again. This time, there was no audience of recruits or guards to perform for.
The alcove was shadowed and secluded, bathed in a soft, amber light that seemed to isolate them from the rest of the world. Diana's back was pressed against the rough stone wall, and Rex was close—impossibly close.
