Morning came early.
The first light stretched across the polished floors of Blackthorne Villa, pale and sharp through the tall, narrow windows. The kind of morning that cut clean through dreams and demanded presence.
Damien was already awake.
Had been for a while.
His breath moved in slow, even draws, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin the only trace of the training session he'd just completed. The villa's private gym was still cooling down, its lights set to dim as the last of the mana-weights hovered silently in their cradles.
No records broken. No thresholds pushed.
Just control. Flow. Repetition.
The water ran hot and fast, steam curling against the dark marble walls as he stepped into the shower.
He didn't linger.
No long soak. No moment of reflection.
Just efficiency.
