Ruby Red

Chapter Four

Alana's ragged breathing filled the empty training room. With every blow to the leather punching bag, the chain holding it aloft rattled under the force of her fist. Her hands were going to be sore in the morning, especially with her grip on Elandre's reins from earlier.

Calluses already padded her fingertips thanks to years of training with the royal guards. Tonight, she hadn't wrapped her hands in padding and gauze before letting herself loose on the punching bag. Her knuckles burned as they slammed into the hard leather. Blood from splits in the skin dribbled down between her fingers, mixing with the sweat of her palms as her fists closed tighter into themselves.

Crescent moons from her nails poked into her skin. Alana's palms were small and her fingers thin. They reminded her of Lévian's in that way, but that was where the similarities stopped. Where the princess's were smooth, hers were rough. She had worked her whole life to get to where she was today, and she wasn't content yet. There was still so much more she wanted to do. So much more she needed to do.

One more right hook to the sack of sand sent the bag swinging backward, and Alana stepped away. She wiped the sweat off of her brow with the hem of her white shirt. Her uniform laid in a crumpled heap on the floor beside her. Someone was probably going to yell at her for wrinkling it, but she didn't care right now. Alana just needed to hit something.

Taking a few steps back, she eyed the punching bag again. Alana bounced back and forth on her toes, readying her fists in front of her. She brought her leg up and to the side, leaning back into her center of gravity. In a flash, her leg snapped forward, kicking out as her other foot pivoted on the floor. Her shin smacked the bag with a thud, then she swung her body around back to where she started.

The door to the training room opened behind her. Some random guard, not from her division, walked in with a thin white towel wrapped around his shoulders. He smiled at her, but Alana was not in the mood for company.

Instead of tolerating another colleague's presence, she raised a corner of her lip at him in a grimace. If she were an animal, her hackles would be raised and she would be snarling. A thin line appeared between the man's furrowed brows and he stopped walking. Alana rolled her eyes and nodded toward the door. "Get out."

The man's sight traveled down to her busted knuckles and curled fists. He saw blood and cringed, drawing in a gasp. If he could put this feeling into words, he wouldn't say he was scared, but he was definitely concerned for Alana's sanity. Without another look in her eyes, the man left the training room in a hurry.

Alana focused back onto the punching bag, throwing out a one-two punch in quick bursts of motion. Her senses were so tuned into what was going on in front of her that she didn't notice the door open again and a familiar figure slipping into the training room. She punched again, grinning at the bag swinging like a pendulum from its chain.

"Watch your elbows. If you keep them flared like that, someone could hit you when you're not paying attention. You've always been bad at defense."

Alana froze and rolled her eyes. She didn't turn around to address the soldier when she said, "I thought I told you to get out."

"I beg to differ." Their husky tone was closer now, and their footsteps on the hardwood floors only told her that they were still coming. She whirled around and smacked right into Karis's rigid chest. "Slow down. I'm just here to check on you."

"I don't need to be checked on. I'm fine." Alana started to push Karis away, but he grabbed her wrists and held them to his chest. She crashed back into him, their bodies pressed together. Karis could feel her body's warmth and her humid breath from working out. To her, he was like ice. His hands clamped like vises around her wrists, holding her in place.