The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride

He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out rougher than intended. "Let’s see how strong those delicate hands of yours really are. Punch me. We’ll start with a warm-up."

Ren cocked her head as he lifted his leather-gloved hands. "Punch these."

"Alright. If you insist."

Her childhood had been a battlefield of its own and as a teenager it sucked. Her siblings had been relentless, turning her into their personal punching bag. She had spent years evading their blows, sneaking into infirmaries instead of training grounds. But now? Now she had no choice.

Adjusting her stance, she raised her fists near her jaw.

Kai nodded, approving. "Not bad. But in battle, hesitation gets you killed. Don’t overthink it, just hit me."

She struck his palm, hard. He grinned. "Did you just kiss me?"

Ren scowled. "A kiss can be deadlier. Don’t you know?" She threw another punch.

"Faster. Harder, wife."

She kept going, ignoring the burn in her arms, the ache settling into her bones. But after minutes of relentless strikes, her breath grew ragged, and her shoulders screamed for relief.

"Enough."