I woke up to the sound of Sorelle's gentle voice, a soft whisper that pierced the haze of sleep. "Ace, I brought you some breakfast." I groggily opened my eyes to find her standing in the doorway, a tray balanced in her hands, a warm smile on her face. My stomach growled in response, a reminder that I had planned on skipping breakfast as well, still reeling from the library conversation. But Sorelle's thoughtful gesture was a lifeline, a reminder that not everyone in Anahate was as cruel as Zane.

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, as she set the tray down on my bedside table. "Thanks, Sorelle. I really appreciate it."

She sat down beside me, her eyes sparkling with concern. "You okay? You seemed really upset yesterday. Zane can be a jerk sometimes."

I snorted, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "That's one way to put it."

Sorelle's expression turned serious. "Don't let him get to you, Ace. You're here to learn, to grow. Don't let his opinions ruin your experience in Anahate."

Her words were soothing, a reminder that I had friends here, Sidhe who cared about me. I took a deep breath, feeling a sense of determination wash over me. I wasn't going to let Zane's words hold me back. I was going to prove to myself, to him, that I was more than just a human, more than just a weakness. I dressed in my Visu fighting leathers, the familiar fabric a comfort against my skin. I had a mission today - to hone my skills, to learn how to defend myself. I wasn't going to be weak like I had been with the truth farmers, like I had been with the Frygt. I was going to be strong, fierce, and capable. As I walked out of the manor, I spotted Zane waiting for me, his eyes sweeping my body up and down, a raised eyebrow the only indication of his surprise. I sneered at him in response, a spark of satisfaction igniting within me. I didn't care about being nice to Zane anymore. He wasn't the one helping me, giving me a place to stay. I had no obligation to make him feel comfortable. And now that I knew how he felt about Lennon, I had no problem letting Zane know how I felt about him. I rolled my eyes as I fell into step next to him, Kiah and Valen ahead of us, as we began the short trek to ManPuri to train. Zane was silent at first, his eyes darting to me every so often, his expression a mask of calm. But I caught the flicker of discomfort in his gaze, the way his eyes lingered on me a fraction of a second too long. He was visibly uncomfortable, and that amused me.

Then he reluctantly spoke up, his voice low and smooth. "Sorry about yesterday, in the library."

My response was short, a clipped "Me too." The words laced with venom, hinting more at being sorry I had to talk to Zane at all.

He smirked. "Spicy..." he observed, his eyes glinting with amusement.

I snapped at him, my patience wearing thin. "You don't know him. You have no idea what he's been through."

Zane chuckled, a lazy, annoyed laugh. "No one knows him, I think that's how he prefers it."

I hissed in response, my anger simmering just below the surface. "You have no idea what he prefers."

Zane scoffed, a low, throaty sound. "I know he seems to have a unique preference for humans."

I scoffed, my anger boiling over. "Takes one to know one."

Zane's eyes sparkled with amusement, his smile growing wider. His laugh seemed to turn more genuine. "Touché." He said, seeming impressed by my quickness. "Channel that spicy energy into training, and you'll be kicking ass in no time."

I didn't return the smile, my expression a mask of indifference. As we walked, the tension between Zane and I was palpable, a living, breathing thing that pulsed with every step. But I didn't care. I was done playing nice, done pretending that everything was okay. I was done being weak. In fact, there was no reason I needed to walk with him at all. So I quickened my pace, catching up to Kiah and Valen.

"Wait for me!" I yelled to them.

The sound of Zane's laughter trailed behind me, a fading echo that was swiftly consumed by the rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs beneath my feet. I didn't spare a thought toward Zane, not when I had a singular focus burning within me: to train, to hone my skills, to become the best version of myself. And yet, as I fell into step beside Kiah and Valen, I couldn't help but recall the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. He seemed to be enjoying this side of me, the fierce and driven side that I usually kept locked away. Maybe he understood this type of energy better, this unyielding drive that propelled me forward. Or maybe - and the thought sent a spark of satisfaction through me - he was simply regretful for his words about Lennon, his condescending tone and careless jabs. But I didn't care. Not really. I wasn't here to make friends with Zane or win popularity contests. I was here to push myself to the limit, to test my boundaries and shatter them. I was here to train, to sweat, to bleed and emerge stronger, harder, and more resilient than ever before. I would not be swayed, not even by the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. I was a force to be reckoned with, and the feeling was liberating.

As we stepped into the training ring, the worn wooden floor creaking beneath our feet, Valen's voice cut through the air, his words like a spark to dry tinder. "Zane will be training you today, Ace."

I felt a surge of irritation, my eyes rolling in a gesture of mock enthusiasm. "Fabulous," I drawled.

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Valen and Kiah exchanged a look, and Zane's laughter was immediate. A low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. I ignored it, refusing to acknowledge the physical reaction.

But as Zane began to outline our training regimen, I found my attention straying. Not to the intricacies of balance and strength training, though I knew I should be focused, but to Kiah. She stood at the edge of the ring, her eyes fixed intently on Zane, her gaze burning with an intensity that made my skin prickle. It was as if she was trying to see right through him, to unravel the very fabric of his being. I felt tense as I realized that her focus on him was even more pronounced than it had been in the days prior. I couldn't for the life of me fathom why she was so drawn to him. Zane, with his arrogant smirk and condescending attitude, was the last person I would have chosen to train with. Maybe Kiah saw something in him that I didn't, something that made her willing to overlook his many, many flaws. It was a mystery I had no interest in solving, not when I had my own training to focus on. I pushed the thought aside, deliberately turning my attention to Zane's words.

"We'll start with balance training," he was saying, his voice low and even. "We'll work on your center of gravity, your ability to adapt to changing situations."

I nodded, my mind already racing ahead to the challenges that lay before me. I was here to train, to push myself to the limit, and I would not be swayed by petty distractions.

As I balanced on one foot, my arms extended to the sides, Zane's voice cut through the air, "Your balance and reflexes are impressive," he said, his tone laced with genuine admiration.

I narrowed my eyes, unsure if he was simply trying to make amends for what he said in the library, or if he was genuinely impressed. His words about Lennon still stung, and I wasn't ready to forgive him just yet. I was still seething with annoyance, but as he watched me with an intensity that made my skin prickle, I found myself speaking, my words spilling out in a reluctant torrent.

"I took down two of those truth farmers," I said, my eyes fixed on some point beyond Zane's shoulder. I didn't look at him, didn't want to meet his gaze, but I could sense his interest, his attention riveted on me.

His eyes lit up with intrigue. "And how did you manage to do that?"

"It was just adrenaline and reflexes, I punched one in the face, blocked the other and got him in the stomach." I continued, my tone dismissive, as if it was nothing, as if I hadn't been terrified out of my wits at the time.

Zane's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Unheard of," he breathed. "A human taking down two Sidhe?

I sneered at him, a petty retort rising to my lips. "Oh, Lennon said the same thing," I said, my tone dripping with venom. It was a low blow, but I didn't care.

Zane tensed a bit before his eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed. "You're a feisty one, aren't you?" I glared at him, my face burning with annoyance, but he just chuckled and shook his head. "I like it," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You're not afraid to speak your mind, even when it's not the most... diplomatic thing to do."

I rolled my eyes, “Like you were the picture of diplomacy yesterday.” A small part of me was pleased that I'd managed to ruffle his feathers. It was a small victory, but it was something.

"So, are you single?" I asked, my voice light, almost casual, but with a hint of mischief. But it was the next question that seemed to strike a chord, a question that I had tossed out with a reckless abandon. "Or are you married to your legion?"

Zane's expression changed, his eyes narrowing, his jaw tightening. For a moment, he looked almost... solemn. I felt a flicker of guilt, a sense of unease, as if I had poked at a wound that was still tender. But then I remembered the way he had spoken of Lennon, the careless words that had cut deep, and my guilt was replaced by a surge of annoyance. I waited for his response, my eyes locked on his, but what he said was not what I had expected.

"Why, are you interested?" he teased, his voice low, his eyes glinting with amusement. I felt a spark of irritation, a sense of frustration, and my response was immediate.

"You wish," I said, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I struggled to maintain my balance. The exercises were getting harder, my body trembling with effort, but my gaze never wavered from Zane's.

His eyes sparkled with mischief, and he chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "You're not wrong," he said, his voice dripping with confidence, and I felt my annoyance spike.

I snapped back, my voice sharp as a whip. "No, but you are." My words were a challenge, a gauntlet thrown, and I could see the amusement in Zane's eyes deepen.

But my triumph was short-lived. As I lost my balance, my body swaying precariously, Zane's expression turned serious, his eyes narrowing as he instructed me to focus and stop flirting with him. I shot him an annoyed glare, my eyes flashing with irritation, but he just chuckled, his hands reaching out to steady me. As his fingers touched me, a jolt of electricity ran through me, a spark of heat that I couldn't ignore. His hands were warm, his touch gentle. I was furious with myself. I didn't want to be attracted to Zane, not even in the slightest. He was an arrogant bastard, and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. But as he positioned my body, his hands guiding me with a gentle firmness, I couldn't help but feel a surge of heat run through me. And that only seemed to infuriate me more. I shoved down the thought, and as the training session wore on, I found myself becoming increasingly absorbed in the physical exertion, the sweat-drenched movements, and the rush of adrenaline that came with it. Time seemed to melt away, lost in the rhythm of punches and kicks, of dodges and weaves. I'd begun to tune out Kiah's watchful eye, her constant surveillance no longer grating on my nerves. And as for Zane, our dynamic was an infuriating dance of push and pull, a tantalizing game of cat and mouse that left me annoyed, but also entertained. But beneath the surface, something else was stirring. A spark had been lit within me, a flame that flickered with every movement. I felt alive, invigorated, and I couldn't wait to continue training, to learn how to properly defend myself, to hone my skills and become a force to be reckoned with. The coming days of training stretched out before me like a promise, a prospect that filled me with excitement. As Valen called out, announcing the end of our training session, I didn't even glance back at Zane. I simply turned on my heel and walked away, my feet carrying me toward the manor with a sense of purpose. I could feel Zane's intense gaze on me, his eyes burning with a mixture of surprise and agitation. I knew he was taken aback by my abrupt departure, my failure to thank him for his instruction. And that was exactly what I wanted. For a moment, I felt a thrill of triumph. I had asserted my independence, my refusal to be drawn into Zane's web of charm and condescension. I had walked away, leaving him to stew in his own juices. And that, for now, was a victory.