Meredith.
I pushed myself up from the ground, brushing dirt from my palms, breathing harder than I wanted him to notice.
Draven's sharp gaze followed me, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, as if he already knew I would come at him again.
"Ready to fail again?" he asked calmly, stepping back into a stance.
My jaw tightened. "Not this time."
He moved first—always faster than I expected. His arm cut toward me, but instead of dodging the way he predicted, I dropped low, letting his strike cut through the air.
My fingers brushed the ground as a split-second decision was sparked.
'Fine. If I couldn't beat him with strength, I would beat him with something else.'
I snatched a handful of sand from the training ground and hurled it straight at his face.
His eyes narrowed in surprise, but he reacted fast—too fast. He turned his head sharply to avoid the worst of it, his body twisting with the motion.
And in that single instant, his back was to me.
