Page 91 of A Sun Scorched Bloom

"Yes, we do." Erik tried to push down the uncomfortable feeling in his chest telling him to gather her in his arms and take away all of her fears. "You need to feel safe? I need you to feel safe, too."

"It’s so late, though," Janelle said, "and I don’t wanna wake the others."

"The others don’t need to train with us. Not tonight. Are you ready to go?" Erik walked over to the door, but Janelle shuffled her feet.

"You’re sure?" she asked softly.

"I'm positive," Erik said like he meant it, and he did. The thought of Janelle not feeling safe filled him with a rage that he had never experienced before.

"Well, if you’re sure," Janelle discreetly wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, "then prepare for me to kick your ass." She squared her shoulders and elbowed him in the ribs as she walked past, clearing her throat.

The castle was completely silent as they walked to the training room, which, like their bedrooms and King Tanad’s office, was completely open to the sea. The breeze flowing through the opening was refreshing, now that the sun was resting for the evening. Lea and Erik had trained straight through dinner, and what he’d seen had astounded him. The power Lea had—there was nothing like it. Not that he had ever seen, at least. Now he just needed to get her to work on her confidence, but he would never again focus on instructing Lea at the expense of Janelle's training.

Hurrying ahead to open the door for Janelle, Erik allowed her to enter and walked straight to the mat without a word. They both kicked off their sandals and walked onto the soft black pad, and Janelle raised her hands in a defensive stance.

Erik spent a moment observing her. She had gotten significantly better at defending her face and neck, but remained somewhat timid about going on the offensive, as well as with protecting her flank. There was a hint of definition beginning to emerge on Janelle’s arms from the drills they’d been practicing, and she stood lightly on her feet, proof of her improving agility.

Every day they did push-ups and core exercises, as well as learned various punches and maneuvers that they repeated on a leather bag that was filled with sand and hovered a few feet off the ground. Every training session, Janelle had put up a fight, complaining and using colorful language to describe what she would do to him if he made her do another repetition, but Erik knew it was all an act. He’d observed how hard she worked every single day with every single exercise.

Janelle’s knuckles were cut and bruised from her effort, but not once had she stopped an exercise to ask for healing, or even a break.

"What are you waiting for?" Janelle asked as he stood, silently assessing her.

"I’m waiting for you to attack so I can block you." Erik crossed his arms.

Janelle gave him a look that suggested she thought that he was trying to trap her.

Erik cocked his head. "Why do you think you need to be on the defensive?"

Janelle lowered her hands with a huff. "Because you’re six foot four, and I am five foot three? Maybe that has something to do with it? Because you’re a warrior, and I’m just learning how to not get myself killed?"

"Youare a warrior," Erik walked toward her, grabbing her hands and pulling them back up to protect her face. "You’re not just training to prevent yourself from injury. You’re training to fulfill your potential, to improve what you are already capable of."

Janelle shuffled her feet and looked away.

"You found your way into the castle when Lea was taken, despite the fact that the king was very selective about who is allowed to work there because of the whispers of the rebellion. You are the one who led your friends to safety after fleeing the castle. They wouldn’t have made it through town without you using your powers to guide them. You are every bit as capable as myself or Gray or Lea. Sothatis what I am waiting for. For you to realize what you're capable of. Now attack me."

Erik widened his stance and bent his knees slightly, raising his hands in front of him to prepare to block. Tears glistened in Janelle’s eyes, but she simply nodded her head and resumed her fighting stance, not even bothering to blink them away.

Her stoic response made Erik’s chest swell with a mixture of pride and sorrow. He hated seeing her this way, but she wasn’t letting it rule her or destroy her. She was ready to fight through it.

With a tentative step forward, Janelle jabbed toward Erik’s shoulder.

"No. Aim for the face, the throat, or the gut. Again."

Janelle followed with another half hearted jab.

"Harder." She wasn’t trying, wasn’t allowing that anger simmering inside her to fuel her movements.

"Donotpretend to be weak," he demanded. "It’s insulting. Harder."

Janelle’s jaw clenched, and she struck again, slightly harder.

"What are you doing?" Erik began stalking in a circle around Janelle, putting her on edge as he tried to rile her up. "You said you wanted to train. Then train. Harder."

Janelle launched at him, taking him by surprise as she dropped low with an uppercut to the stomach.

"Good. Again." Erik ordered.

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