“Let’s try with a blade.” Then, without warning, he swung his training sword toward her shoulder - not hard, not fast, but unexpected.

Sylvie reacted on instinct.

She twisted, bringing her blade up todeflect - but her footing faltered. Her feet tangled beneath her, throwing her off balance. The impact shuddered through her arms, but she refused to fall, tightening her stance - just barely holding on.

Axel studied her for a moment before stepping back. "Again,"

She exhaled sharply, her pulse quickening - not just from the exertion but from the way his gaze lingered, assessing, measuring.

She would keep her feet.

She would keep her sword.

She repeated the thoughts in her mind like a mantra.

“Don’t overthink it.” He stepped closer again, lowering his voice. “Trust yourself. Trust your body.”

Her pulse pounded, and she barely had a second before he moved again - this time aiming low. She scrambled to block him, stumbling back slightly as her blade caught his.

“Try again.”

Breathing hard she grit her teeth.

She would keep her feet.

She would keep her sword.

His next strike came - angled toward her head. Their wooden swords met with a sharp clank, and this time her legs braced the impact.

His eyes drew lazily over her, assessing.

“Good.” He nodded before widening the space between them.

“Let's reverse roles.” He lifted his chin, beckoning her toward him. “Let’s see your attack.”

Her pulse hammered against her ribs at his request, her mind racing, her gut twisting. She didn’t know the first thing about swordsmanship, but she knew she had no choice. She drew in a breath, willing away the tremor in her hands. With a sharp exhale, she lunged, her blade slicing through the air in a streaming arc, aiming for his center. Every muscle in her body coiled with effort, every ounce of strength she could muster pouring into the strike.

But then he moved - sudden, fluid.

Sidestepping her with effortless precision, his hand shot out,catching her wrist in an iron grip. A sharp jolt of pain flared through her arm, his hand twisting just enough to send her blade clattering to the ground.

He yanked her forward, his strength jarring, and she collided against him. Hard muscle met her soft curves as her back pressed into his chest. His arm came around her, firm yet careful, trapping her against him, his fingers wrapping around the sensitive skin of her throat.

A gasp escaped her lips.

Ashes.

The space between them felt impossibly small, the world around them dissolving into silence as he held her pinned, helpless.

She should fight back.

She should move.

She should do something, anything.

But her mind was blank, her whole body ignited with the thrill of his touch, of where they connected. Every inch of her had become hyper aware of where their bodies met - the heat radiating from him, the roughness of his calloused fingers grazing her skin, the steady rise and fall of his breath.

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze catching his just over her shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes flashed with a certain fire, a fire she could easily become consumed by. His lips hovered dangerously close, and her pulse thundered against her ribs.