SERAPHINA’S POV
Training might not yet have delivered the perfect results I wanted, but I improved with each session, and it left me thrumming with satisfaction—especially the physical aspect.
My last session at OTS still lingered in my body, the memory of it settling into my muscles like a warm echo. That low, humming ache that meant I’d pushed hard enough to matter.
Smooth.
That was the word Maya had used earlier, arms folded as she observed my footwork with a sharp, appraising eye.
“Your transitions are smoother,” she’d said. “Less resistance.”
Less resistance.
I hadn’t realized how much of it I’d been carrying until it loosened its grip, as if something unknotted after being pulled too tight for too long.
Even now, clean and wrapped in fresh clothes, my body felt perfectly aligned—present, steady. I relished not feeling like the ground beneath me was waiting to give way.
Daniel didn’t miss my good mood.
