49

I summon all my strength and sprint toward him at full speed. My feet give out from underneath me, and I end up on the ground with a more painful thud than earlier. He didn’t even let me come close this time. I glare up at his neutral expression, and now, I do wish to inflict damage on those features. “Again.” I stand up on wobbly feet and fling off my jacket, toss it out of the ring, then roll the sleeves of my shirt up. Kirill’s face remains the same. Timeless and emotionless. It doesn’t change. Not when I let out a battle cry and raise my fist, not when I attempt to punch him, and certainly not when he throws me against the ground. Again and again and again. One hour later, I haven’t managed to touch him, let alone punch him. My shirt sticks to my back with sweat. I’m breathing so heavily, I’m nearly wheezing, and my organs feel rearranged from the number of impacts I’ve taken. He doesn’t do it in a way that would inflict permanent damage, but he’s so firm in his subduing methods th