Lyra's POV
The warning came sharp and clear across the training mat. "Princess, we are sparring. The objective is to subdue your opponent, not permanently damage them."
Octavia's response was a soft giggle that sent chills down my spine, paired with that serpentine smile that had become all too familiar. "My mistake," she said, though her tone suggested anything but remorse.
I studied her movements as she shifted her stance, her body swaying in an almost hypnotic rhythm before she launched herself at me again. Her strikes lacked power but compensated with lightning speed. Then came the kick, her leg whipping through the air with devastating velocity. Drawing from my memory of Xander's technique, I caught her ankle mid-strike and sent her crashing to the mat.
