Recap: Daika's eyes glittered like a blade catching light. "Keep saying that, kitten. Maybe one day you'll believe it."
She turned and walked away, laugh low and dangerous, echoing long after she left.
Rika sank against the mirror, chest tight, breath ragged.
And in the reflection, she didn't know if the fire burning in her eyes was defiance or the beginning of something she couldn't control.
...
The corridors of the training complex were eerily quiet that night, too quiet for Rika's pounding pulse. She slipped barefoot past the dorm doors, hoodie drawn low, praying no one else was awake. The air was thick, heavy, her suppressant patch was still on, but it was weakening. She could feel the edges of it fraying, heat prickling at the base of her spine. If anyone sniffed too close—
Don't think about it. Just breathe. Just get air.
