Page 8 of Fated for Flames

Someone was hammering at my door.

I was so sore that stretching to grab my phone felt like an odyssey. Not being able to heal myself with magic sucked, but I was used to pain.

It was 5:49 a.m.

“What the hell?” I grumbled.

“Open up, little witch. I know you’re in there. I can smell you,” came the too cheerful voice from the other side.

Why was the overly enthusiastic golden retriever at my door at this ungodly hour?

“Come on,” he whined. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

I let out a groan.

“Little witchy witch,” he sang. “If you don’t open up in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna serenade the whole floor with tales of our steamy fuck fest until every last witch on this floor is awake. Ten, nine, eight…”

I stumbled to the door and swung it open, immediately being blasted by his blinding smile.

“Ta-da! Surprise, it’s me!” he announced, bouncing with enthusiasm. “Morning, sunshine, wow those eyes of yours are something!” he continued, taking in my disheveled state. “Rocking the witchy couture, I see.” He winked at myHocus Pocustee.

I sighed. “What do you want?”

“It’s time for training. Let’s get moving.” He beamed.

“You’re the TA?”

He nodded, stepping past me into my cramped room. “Why so tiny? Aren’t you supposed to be some coven heiress?”

“That’s Lia,” I corrected, grabbing my leggings and running shoes.

I was surprised to see that he was the TA, but I guessed out of all of them, he was the nicest and least threatening. Despite his annoying perkiness, he seemed okay; his build was more athletic, with lean muscle, so he looked the part, at least. What did I know about training? Nada, that was what.

“Ah, yes, the sister.”

“Not my sister,” I replied sharply.

“All right, all right, just trying to chat.” He surrendered, hands in the air, backing toward the door. “Get dressed. You’ve got two minutes.”

“I can’t wait,” I deadpanned.

“That’s the spirit!” he answered, missing the sarcasm completely and flashing a goofy grin.

* * *

We ran for twenty minutes, and honestly, I was amazed I had lasted that long. He, on the other hand, seemed to havean endless reservoir of energy, babbling about everything and anything.

Seriously, did this guy ever shut up?

By the time we neared the training yard, situated at the far end of campus, my lungs were on fire. The expansive outdoor area, framed by the open sky and an adjoining building filled with gym equipment, welcomed us. I was completely out of breath, hands on my knees, struggling for air.

“I need a minute,” I gasped out, signaling a desperate need for a break.

“You did good,” he said with a reassuring nod. “And hey, no face-plants, so that’s a win.”

Then we moved on to a series of workouts. By the end, I was drenched in sweat, trembling from exertion yet feeling a sense of accomplishment.

It was a step in the right direction.

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