Page 83 of In Violent Waves

He strode for the fence at the far end and could hear her footsteps lightly crunching behind him.

When he started lunging, she groaned out loud.

“So how did you survive so long, being so weak and puny?”

She started lunging. The grimace on her face nearly made him laugh, but he kept going. Lunging very slowly so that she could keep pace.

“I had teeth and claws,” she retorted. “Is this supposed to burn?”

“It doesn’t for me. But, yes. You’ve never used your muscles before.”

When she didn’t reply, he looked over to see her mocking him.

“I don’t have to do this with you. I can just walk and yell,” he offered, stopping and standing upright.

“Good. Why don’t you go stand over there and breathe someone else’s air?”

Wilder shrugged and walked away, leaving her struggling to bend into her third lunge.

He leaned against the table beside Maelys and Ridge.

“This is unbearable to watch,” Maelys murmured.

“Then don’t. Go spar with Otto and the guards,” Wilder replied, jutting his chin to the other side of the grounds, where swords clanged against each other.

“I’ll spar with you,” Ridge offered.

“That’s better,” Maelys replied, and they set off arm-in-arm.

Wilder watched as Lyra struggled through one set of lunges. She stopped on the far end and leaned over the stone wall. She didn’t move for quite some time, and Wilder gave up on waiting for her.

“Move!”

When she didn’t move or snap back, he pushed off the table, cursing all the gods as he walked over to her.

“Is there a problem?” he asked when he was close enough that she could hear him.

“I hate you,” she groaned.

“There’s that sharp tongue. You just have one more set to do.”

She shook her head, and that’s when Wilder noticed the vomit clinging to the end of her braid. She had leaned over to retch. Dread soured his tongue as he bit back a groan. He shouldn’t care that she was in pain. That was the point.

Training was pain.

“I can’t do it.” Angry tears spilled over the rim of her eyes. He felt a piece of him wither away to ash. He had pushed her too far, and now she was crying. Her anger smelled like a thunderstorm.

“I want to be strong. I do, I swear. But I was never raised totrain.I was raised tosuffer. I only know suffering, and I can’t take it anymore.”

Wilder froze, and ice slid through his veins.She had been raised to suffer?

“Lyra,” he breathed. “I’m not doing this to punish you.”That was a lie.“I’m not inflicting this on you to relish in your suffering.”Not a total lie.“Training will make you better—stronger, even.”That was the truth of it.She would eventually grow stronger. “But we can call it quits today if you’ve had enough. Today was for learning where your boundaries are, and pushing you to them—but not through them.”

She nodded then, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

“Do you need help?” he asked, a shade quieter.

“No. I can at least make it to the table on my own two feet,” she muttered. But when she straightened, her legs trembled.