Sleep had become impossible.
Kai stood in the center of his training room at three in the morning, sweat dripping from his bare chest onto the padded floor. He'd been here for two hours, pushing his body through combat sequences that usually left him exhausted enough to sleep through anything.
But not tonight. Not with Luna's face plastered across international media, calling her a threat to human civilization.
"Again," he muttered, launching into another series of strikes against the heavy bag. Left hook, right cross, uppercut. The impacts echoed through the soundproofed room like gunshots.
Each punch carried the weight of helpless rage. At Victoria Kane for targeting his daughter. At the protesters demanding Luna be "contained." At the ancient forces circling their family like vultures.
At himself, for not being strong enough to protect her from any of it.
