Chapter 9:Revien

I walked briskly toward Hayeon, handing her a bottle of water. She grabbed it quickly, her small hands trembling as she drank. Once her breathing slowed, I helped her to her feet.

Shavon's sharp gaze was on me, his displeasure practically radiating off him. "You're on a different level than Hayeon," he said, his voice calm but firm. "It would be best if she trained alone."

I clenched my jaw, scowling at him. "Exactly why I should train with her. I know more than she does, and that'll push her to improve faster," I countered with a smirk.

Hayeon perked up, her voice light and hopeful. "He could, couldn't he?"

Shavon's eyes flicked to her before he turned away. After a brief silence, he sighed. "Fine," he said flatly.

"Start running," Shavon ordered.

I bumped Hayeon's shoulder playfully and took off ahead of her. The rest of the time was spent with her chasing me, determined to keep up. I'd never understood why kids enjoyed playing with each other—it always seemed like a waste of time. But now? Now, I got it.

It was fun. I was having fun with Hayeon.

On the final lap, she was mere inches from beating me. When we crossed the line, she collapsed onto the floor, huffing for air. I laughed as she glared at me, cheeks puffed out in frustration.

Shavon approached, patting her head lightly. "Good effort, kid. Next time."

My smile faltered as I noticed her eyes light up and a faint blush color her cheeks.

"Now, let's get you something to eat before we continue training," Shavon said, his tone softer than usual.

Hayeon nodded, pushing herself to her feet and brushing stray hairs from her face. I could see it in his eyes—the fondness he was beginning to feel for her. It irritated me in a way I didn't understand.

Before Shavon could say anything else, I stepped in, grabbing Hayeon's hand. "I'll take her to the cafeteria. You should rest, Shavon."

He rarely showed emotion, but his body language betrayed his irritation. And strangely, that felt satisfying.

Hayeon's curious nature came alive as we walked through the halls, her questions endless. Answering them gave me a strange sense of pride, a feeling I'd only experienced after a successful kill.

When we reached the cafeteria, the room fell silent. Conversations paused as people took in the sight of Hayeon. It was common for the assassins to eat together—it helped everyone recognize when someone new joined.

As we moved through the line, the chatter slowly resumed.

"This place is huge for being inside a mountain," Hayeon marveled, her eyes wide.

"There are 2,000 of us here," I explained. "The base has to be big enough for all of us... and the prisoners."

She piled a bit of almost everything onto her plate, her curiosity extending to the food. We sat down at a corner table, but I could feel the weight of others' eyes on us.

"I didn't think training would be hard," Hayeon said between bites, her voice quiet but reflective. "But now... now I think it's going to be really tough."

I watched as she finished her food, and soon, we were back in the training room. The rest of the session was spent running under Shavon's watchful eye.

Despite her small size and lack of experience, I knew Hayeon had the potential to become something great. Her eyes held the makings of a killer. With the right training, she could be an invaluable asset.

Later, Shavon and I walked her to her room.

"Get some rest," Shavon instructed her. "Tomorrow, we'll be working on something different."

Hayeon nodded, giving us a small smile before closing the door.

My smile dropped when I noticed Shavon still standing behind me.

"What are you doing?" I growled, my voice low.

"Taking care of Hayeon," Shavon replied, his tone equally sharp. "She needs training—and fast."

"She does," I snapped, "but acting like her father isn't going to help her learn any faster."

Shavon's glare hardened. "And you, Azail, indulging her during training isn't helping either. She's malnourished and weak. She needs to build strength before she can learn how to fight our way. Teaching her will require breaking her—and I know you'll try to stop me. So, you're prohibited from training with her from now on."

My anger flared. "I brought her here! She's under my father's orders and mine. I will train her."

Shavon didn't flinch. "Who do you think gave me the order to train her and watch over her? Speak to your father if you have an issue with it."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me glaring at Hayeon's door.

The fury boiling inside me needed an outlet. I headed straight for the training room, where a few men were sparring.

"Azail," they greeted, bowing their heads.

"Training. Now," I ordered, my tone cold.

A maid handed me a sword before retreating to the wall. Five men surrounded me, their stances tense.

They charged.

My body moved instinctively, slicing through the air with lethal precision. The familiar rush of adrenaline and bloodlust coursed through me. By the time I was done, the five men lay lifeless on the ground, their blood pooling at my feet.

I stood there, breathing heavily, the red haze slowly fading. The tingle of satisfaction ran through me, easing my anger.

The maid handed me a towel, which I took without a word. Stepping over the bodies, I tossed the towel aside as I left the room.

When I returned to my quarters, the satisfaction of the fight was gone, replaced by the weight of my frustration.

If Hayeon trained without me, I'd barely see her. And I liked being around her.

But if she was going to get better, maybe she did need to train without me.