Evaline:

The moment I stepped out of the car, the first thing I noticed was the sky.

The clouds had gathered low and heavy, swollen with the promise of rain. The wind smelled wet, like the earth was already preparing for it. The entire mansion - large, serene, and surrounded by trimmed hedges - looked darker than usual under the shifting skies.

Oscar stretched, glanced upward, and flashed me a victorious grin.

"Well, looks like the Moon Goddess heard your plea," he said smugly. "Storm's coming. So yeah… seems like you finally get to skip training today."

A relieved noise escaped me before I could control it. "Thank the Goddess," I whispered dramatically. "I'm saved."

He laughed at my misery, completely unhelpful, and placed his hand lightly on my lower back as we stepped inside. I had half a mind to shove him playfully for making so much fun of me.

And as we entered the living room... we saw him.

River.

Standing like a carved statue, arms crossed, expression unreadable, but eyes too sharp for my comfort.

He flicked his gaze at us the moment we entered.

"Evaline," he said in a clipped tone. "Get changed and meet me in the training room."

"What-wait-River-" I tried, but he was already walking away, not giving me a single extra second to protest. His long strides carried him toward the hall and he disappeared around the corner without so much as a backward glance.

I remained rooted, dumbfounded.

Slowly, I turned toward Oscar, with betrayal painted across my entire being.

"Training room?" I hissed. "There's a training room too?!"

Oscar winced, then did the world's worst job pretending innocence.

"Ah… right. That. I may have forgotten to mention it."

"You may have... are you serious?"

He patted my head like I was an adorable angry puppy instead of a woman contemplating homicide.

"You'll be fine," he said sweetly. "Just take out all your frustration on River during training."

I gaped at him.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead, gentle and warm.

"Good luck, sweetheart."

Knowing there was no saving me, I changed into my training clothes grumpily. I wasn't mentally prepared. I wasn't emotionally prepared. I would never be physically prepared for River's training sessions.

But he didn't care about any of that.

The 'training room' turned out to be another surprise waiting for me... one that had me blinking as I stepped inside. It was massive, almost the size of the ballroom I had once seen in one of the estate's wings. But instead of chandeliers and polished floors, there were targets, mats, weapon racks, reinforced walls, and an arena-like open space in the center.

River stood there, already barefoot on the mat, rolling his wrists like he had been waiting for hours.

"You are late," he said.

"It's been two minutes."

"Two minutes late."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He smirked knowingly.

And that was how the torture began.

He never went easy on me. Not once. And today was no exception.

He attacked without warning... he always attacked without warning... forcing me to keep my mind sharp and my body sharper. But unlike my first days of training, I wasn't flailing anymore. I wasn't helpless. I wasn't even scared.

I was learning.

Fast.

He swung a punch toward my shoulder, and I ducked, sliding to the side, my fingers brushing his ribs as I passed. He pivoted instantly, foot sweeping at my ankles. I jumped.

Barely.

But I jumped.

His brows lifted a fraction... approval.

"Good," he said. "Again."

I groaned. He had been saying "again" for the past forty-five minutes.

This time when he attacked, I managed to block his elbow with both forearms and pivot my weight the way he had taught me. I followed his momentum, tried the hip-throw he drilled into me for days.

And for the first time ever...

River's foot lifted off the mat.

Only for a second. Half a second. But it counted.

Because he actually stumbled.

Because his eyes widened a fraction.

Because he - River, the storm in human form - was surprised.

A wild rush of achievement burst inside me like fireworks.

He steadied himself, and his lips curled slowly.

"Very good."

I felt warm. Giddy. Embarrassingly pleased.

But he wasn't done.

He lunged again, and this time I barely dodged in time, my heart racing, lungs burning. But I kept moving... kept blocking, kept countering. Every success was tiny, but he saw it. He acknowledged it.

At one point, he caught my wrist and twisted lightly... not enough to hurt, but enough to immobilize.

"Your stance dropped," he said.

"It dropped because I'm dying," I muttered.

He ignored that. "Again."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to sleep.

Instead, I attacked.

Fists clenched, muscles burning, hair sticking to my forehead, sweat trailing down my spine.

And somewhere between my tenth fall and twentieth near-success, I realized something... I was starting to love this.

Not the pain. Not the exhaustion.

But earning his praise.

Earning the progress.

Earning the confidence.

River dodged my punch effortlessly and hooked my ankle. I fell... but caught myself with one hand before my face could hit the mat.

River paused.

"Excellent recovery," he said quietly.

My chest tightened with pride.

Another hour later... I was finally allowed to collapse on the mat, limbs trembling, lungs barely functioning.

River's shadow fell over me.

"You are improving rapidly."

I looked up at him, squinting. "…Are you saying that to make me get up again? Because if you are, I swear-"

"It wasn't a compliment," he said flatly. "It was an observation."

I groaned loudly.

He crouched beside me, his expression finally softening by a degree.

"You are doing well, Angel," he said. "Better than well."

My heart squeezed, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe.

When he extended his hand, I took it. He pulled me up effortlessly, and said,

"Training continues tomorrow."

I wanted to fall back down.

He must have read my thoughts from my expression because his lips lifted in that infuriatingly, evil... yet so charming smile.

I was really, really not looking forward to more training. Forget about the praises.