Is she dead?

Rhiannon lay crumpled on the ground, her eyes closed, her breathing faint but steady. For a split second, panic shot through me. Had I overdone it? Was she...dead?

I crouched down, leaning closer to get a better look. Her face was pale, smudged with dirt and sweat, but her chest was rising and falling rhythmically.

She wasn't dead she'd just passed out. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and sat back on my heels.

"Of course," I muttered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Drama queen."

Still, as much as I wanted to roll my eyes and leave her there for a few minutes to recover on her own, I couldn't shake a nagging thought in the back of my mind.

Had I been too harsh? My training methods were extreme, but this wasn't exactly the hardest regimen I'd ever put someone through.