Page 26 of Us Defiant Few

Raziel was clad in dark cargo pants, a long-sleeved vest, and the characteristic black mask covering the lower half of his face.

He strutted over like he was walking in a bar, but his astute gaze took in every inch of the room, lingering on Khalani for a moment.

“Jack told me you were training down here. Thought I might swing by and watch.”

“Is that all?” Brock’s expression was skeptical as Raziel shrugged.

“You know how it is. Stay in hiding for too long and people get antsy, meddling in areas where they shouldn’t.” He glanced at her again.

“Tell me, how’s Ryder holding up?”

Raziel’s gaze swung to Brock, the first hint of emotion crossing his face. “My brother’s still resting. Being kidnapped and underfed in a slave camp for months didn’t help. But Lane said he’d make a full recovery.”

Raziel glanced away, clearly not wanting to say anything more about it. But Khalani couldn’t help the words that left her mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

Raziel shifted his hard gaze to her. “For what?”

“Ryder wasn’t the most welcoming person in camp, but when it came down to it, he didn’t hesitate to help us escape. And I know you blame Takeshi for what happened. But he had the chance to kill Doctor Strauss, and I…I was the one who made him leave. I thought we wouldn’t make it out otherwise. But maybe if I hadn’t…”

Khalani bit her lip as her eyes floated to the ground, the guilt threatening to swallow her whole.

“I know I can’t take back what happened, and saying sorry doesn’t fix anything. But I just needed you to know that I am.”

The dreadful silence expanded.

Raziel was the Aces’ Enforcer, one of the most feared men in Hermes. But when Khalani finally found the courage to look up, his eyes gleamed with an unspoken emotion. And Raziel simply nodded.

That was enough.

Brock cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. “Let’s move on to the next lesson. Disarming your opponent.”

They practiced with plastic knives Brock had obtained from upstairs, and he paired up with Khalani this time. She was currently pinned to the ground, his arms wrapped around her from behind, the knife inches from her throat.

“Practice what I told you,” he ordered. “Lean your weight forward and dislodge my grip.”

But Khalani didn’t do that.

She pulled her arms together and drove her elbow into his stomach.

He cursed, and she was barely able to release herself from his grip. But Brock thrust the knife toward her stomach, stopping just before impact.

“Dead,” he hissed. “You should’ve listened to me.”

“I thought of a quicker way. And it worked, didn’t it?” Khalani rose to her feet, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

“It worked for two seconds,” Brock scoffed. “You were too busy gloating in your silly victory before thinking about your opponent’s next move. If I were your real enemy, you’d be dead.”

“Points for creativity, though,” Raziel added from the corner. His eyes gleamed, arms crossed over his chest. During their training, he’d transitioned from silently studying her to critiquing every inch of her form with Brock.

She should’ve known that apology wasn’t going to carry her far.

“Question.” Serene raised her hand.

Brock sighed. “What?”

“Can I practice the elbowing technique on you too? Seems like an important part of training.”