Transcend

O N E

"You're weak."

My punches thud against  the dense black bag hanging by clanking metal chains. Beads of sweat  trickle down the sides of my face and drop to the concrete floor below. I  visualize my energy flowing from my knuckles into the bag each time I  strike it. Harder, faster, better.

I am not weak.

"You will not succeed if you don't connect with yourself."

I strike the bag with my elbow.

"Who are you?"

The cracking sound of the leather bag echos throughout the room.

"Who do you strive to be? Are you weak?"

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

"Hand-to-hand combat is no place for a woman--"

I swing my leg as hard  as I can, connecting with the bag. I hardly notice it violently swinging  in the direction of my kick as I curl my fist into the fabric of Luke's  black T-shirt.

"Do not diminish my  strength because I'm a woman. If anything, you should be terrified of  the things I'm capable of." My voice is raspier than I intended due to  the lack of breath in my lungs. It doesn't faze Luke, however. He  remains steady and unbothered with a slight smirk on his face.

"Calm down, Evelyn. It  was only a statement to get you to react  to me constantly trying to rip your ego apart," he says, unraveling my fist and walking  to steady the punching bag that is still swinging in circles.  "Seriously, normal people being told they're weak and worthless would've reacted  sooner."

"Normal people don't realize that being personally offended is a stupid reason to start a fight they're not ready to win."

I remove the leather  gloves from my hands and throw them towards my gym bag. Blood stains the  surface of the bruises covering my knuckles, and I try not to think  about how much it's going to sting when I rinse them out back at the  Manor.

"I take pride in knowing I'm part of the reason you're so intelligent." Luke watches me take a drink from my water bottle.

"Why don't you put in a  good word for me to my father about how intelligent you think I am," I  reply. "Maybe then he'd stop focusing on James kissing his ass day in  and day out."

"You know I would if I wasn't one hundred percent sure he would kill me for giving you these lessons. You seem to  forget that nobody is allowed to know we're here." He chucks my sweat  towel at me.

I knew he was right.  Luke and I were good friends but even better boxing partners. He's the  Lieutenant General in my father's division, the West Union, and he would  not be thrilled to realize his daughter is taking it upon herself to  gain an advantage over her brother. Not that there really is one,  considering my father enrolled my brother in basic training when he was  old enough to shoot a gun. I'm simply trying to make up on lost ground,  since my father doesn't have the confidence in me that he has in James.

I've been meeting with  Luke for two years now, starting from the bare minimum of fighting. I overheard him mention he needed to find a way to practice  training rookies in order to be promoted to Lieutenant General, and I  somehow found myself threatening to take away his position if he didn't  comply with my request. Of course I was lying, but the threat seemed realistic. I think he still holds it against me to this  day.

"My father would never kill you. He admires you," I tell him.

"It must be the good looks." Luke winks at me and I roll my eyes.