Page 65 of Spring L.A.W.
The training room in the mansion’s inner sanctuary was cool and dim, lit only by runes pulsing faintly. Payne stood alone, jacket discarded, boots planted, fists wrapped. He wasn’t training. Just moving strategically and boxing against nothing. Shaking off tension, alone.
Rayna leaned against the doorframe and watched. Knowing the mimic may have used her face, her voice, her stance, and still, he hadn’t flinched. That meant something. She just wasn’t sure what.
“You always beat the crap out of the air when you’re mad?” she asked.
He didn’t turn. “Only when the air asks for it.”
She stepped closer. “You okay?”
His shoulders dropped a fraction. “Define okay.”
“The part where you’re not bleeding.”
“That’s a low bar, Rayna.”
“I’m a low-bar kind of girl.”
That got a half-smile. He turned, finally. The barely-there light edged the hard line of his jaw, but his eyes were softer than she expected. And more tired.
“You saw it?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She nodded. He came closer, wrapped knuckles dangling at his sides. “It wasn’t just your face. Itmovedlike you. Almost had your rhythm.”
Rayna exhaled. “But not me.”
“No,” he said, voice low. “Not even close.”
Rayna tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “It’s learning. Fast. Every interaction, every reaction… It’s pulling us into its pattern.”
“And we’re letting it,” he said. “Even now. Watching. Studying. Guessing. It’s getting ahead of us, and that pisses me off.”
She met his eyes. “Then let’s stop waiting.”
He stepped in, close enough to touch. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Their mouths almost met, but Rayna leaned back, breath catching. “I smell training sweat and self-loathing. I’m not kissing that.”
His eyes crinkled. “I’ll go shower.”
“Meanwhile, we bothstrategize. We need a solid plan.”
Payne nodded. The soldier in him straightened, but something in his gaze lingered. Something unspoken and warm.
“Rayna,” he said softly.
She paused at the threshold.
“I didn’t flinch because I know you. I’d flinchforyou. Just notfromyou.”
She hesitated, but when she spoke, her voice was lighter. “Damn. You’re getting good at that.”
“At what?”
“Making me want to survive this.”
Then she was gone, bare feet whispering down the hall.
