Asher Nightshade was a monster.
And no, Violet didn't mean that literally, though that didn't mean she meant it in a good way either.
Six hours.
Six grueling, soul-sucking hours.
That was how long he kept her in the so-called foundation class.
Apparently, Asher Fucking Nightshade had not appreciated the fact that she'd been breathing like a buffalo with a deviated septum after just a one-minute chase from Griffin.
And in his own words, not hers:
"You think your enemies will wait while you catch your breath? This isn't a game, Violet. It's a fight for your life. Now move."
"But I have the power to decimate them on the spot!" Violet had snapped back, glaring.
"Oh, you have powers? That's cute," Asher had said, his voice as flat as his patience.
"You mean the same powers you can't summon at will? Powers mean nothing if you collapse after two minutes in a fight."
