Finn snorts. “That explains the tension.”
I shoot them both a withering look.
Rozsen’s grin says sheabsolutelyknows what she’s doing.
Finn arches a brow dramatically. “We can leave, if you want. For… educational reasons.”
“You guys aren’t helping,” Noa says instantly. “Just go.”
Rozsen laughs. “Is that an order,OfficerGallegher?”
Noa mumbles something under his breath. I catch the wordchildren, followed by a series of quiet curses.
Finn grabs his bag from the floor. “Let’s go, Red. It’s five to one—but that will be thelasttime you steal my keycard.”
Rozsen flashes him a smile that promises nothing but trouble.
They head for the doors, still bickering, still laughing—Finn grumbling about breakfast, Rozsen needling him about his footwork. The door closes behind them with a soft, final click, and the Training Room empties out until it feels cavernous. The air is thick with humidity and the faint scent of sweat and scorched rubber.
It’s quiet.
Too quiet.
I exhale and loosen my shoulders. “Look, I’m sorry, Noa. I’m here. Iamtrying.”
He turns away toward the weight rack, and I think he’ll leave it there—but then he pauses, looking back over his shoulder. His eyes gleam, a dangerous shade of turquoise. “I’ll make you adeal,” he says, voice low. “You get me on my back just once, and I’ll let you dowhateveryou want to me. Right here.”
My heart skips like a stone thrown across still water.
“Anything?” I ask, my tone deliberately slow and sultry.
“Anything, Celeste,” he says, stepping back onto the mat with a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
“Deal.”
I lunge low, going for a leg sweep. He sidesteps easily, damn near laughing as he pivots with the grace of a dancer. We start to circle each other, the tension crackling between us—part combat, part challenge, part something much darker and more delicious.
I feint for his throat; a move he taught me himself. He moves like wildfire—fast and unpredictable. I swear I see smoke ghost through the air in his wake.
“Alright,” I mutter. “If we’re playing dirty…” I throw both hands forward and send a pair of water tendrils skittering across the mat, pooling slick beneath us.
I rush him, slamming my shoulder into his chest before he catches me mid-motion and spins me like I’m weightless. He holds me steady, his expression somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
“You’re using your magick on me?”
“Isn’t that the point?” I smirk.
Without giving him a chance to respond, I lash two ribbons of water up from the mat, coiling them around his wrists.
He doesn’t even flinch—just lets me press in close, lips brushing his as I whisper, “Yield.”
He grins wickedly, heat surging between us. Steam bursts from his skin in a hiss where the water touches him, and with one fluid twist, he breaks free—water sizzling into mist as he looks down at me. “Try harder.”
Cocky bastard.
I narrow my eyes and pivot my approach. A fresh wave of water coils underfoot, but this time, I direct another current behind him. He doesn’t see it coming—the push from behind colliding with the slickness below, and the combined momentum sends him flying toward me so fast that he loses his balance, crashing through my wave in a sputter of insulted fire and steam.
He hits the mat hard, winded, swearing under his breath.
