Skylar

I stand in the center of the training arena, my pulse racing like a drumbeat in my ears. The air is thick with the scent of ancient stone and smoldering embers—a familiar fragrance that signals the depths of our family's domain. My father faces me, his stance wide and commanding. His silver eyes lock onto mine, swirling with pride and an unwavering resolve. He nods once, silently signaling that it's time.

"Remember, Skyler," he says, voice as steady as the earth beneath ...