Pecan's pov
The early morning air was crisp, the sky painted with soft hues of lavender and gold as the sun peeked over the horizon. I pulled my hoodie tighter around me, the chill seeping through my skin. Exercise was my refuge. It gave me a sense of normalcy, a way to clear my thoughts, and after the chaos of the last few days, I desperately needed that.
As I rounded the edge of the training field, I spotted someone ahead. He was tall, his lean, muscular frame moving with the effortless grace of a predator. The closer I got, the more striking his features became,sharp jawline, unruly dark hair that fell just above piercing gray eyes, and a smirk that seemed permanently etched on his lips. His confidence radiated off him like heat from a flame.
"You must be Pecan," he said as I approached, his voice smooth and rich.
I stopped, slightly startled. "And you are?"
