By mid-morning, Kat had reluctantly followed Arden, Nyra, and Beth to the training room, her hangover still pounding like a bass drum in her skull. The girls were already warmed up, bouncing on the balls of their feet, laughing at her groaning attempt to stretch.
"Come on, Kat," Beth said, grinning wickedly. "You can't just lie there like a corpse. It's training day."
"I feel like a corpse," Kat groaned, rubbing her temple. "And if you don't leave me alone, I'm going to become one."
Arden snorted. "You've got no excuses. You survived last night; now it's time to see if you survive us."
Kat scowled, wobbling as Nyra lightly shoved her toward the first sparring mat. "Fine," she muttered, "but if I die, it's on you three."
The first round started, and within seconds, Kat realized she was moving slower than molasses. Her reactions were sluggish, punches sloppy, and kicks barely reached their intended targets. Arden and Nyra easily deflected, countered, and pushed her into positions she couldn't escape fast enough from. Beth laughed while blocking a particularly pathetic swing, her eyes glinting with amusement and disbelief.
Round after round, Kat lost. Every single match. She stumbled, gasped, and cursed under her breath, gripping her sides, sweat mixing with the lingering soreness from last night.
"Seriously," she groaned after collapsing onto a mat again, "I'm human. Remember that. Humans are fragile."
"That's why you're going to get stronger," Nyra said, smirking. "And maybe stop drinking like a maniac."
Before Kat could retort, the door swung open.
V.
The room seemed to contract around him, shadows deepening in the corners, hair swept back, hand gloved, and looking as huge as always. His eyes scanned the mats, locking onto Kat with that cold, piercing focus that made her pulse stutter.
"I'll spar," he said simply, voice low, dangerous. "You."
Kat blinked, still recovering from her last loss, hungover, and more than a little intimidated. "Me? Are you insane?"
"I said you," he replied, a slight smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Come on. Show me what you've got."
Kat took a deep breath, grimacing, but nodded. "Fine. You asked for it."
They faced each other on the mat, the air thick with unspoken challenge. Kat's stomach churned, partly from the hangover, partly from the sheer presence of him. V was massive—every muscle coiled, every movement calculated. His shadow loomed over her like a predator sizing up prey, and her pulse spiked in equal parts fear and thrill.
They started slowly, circling, testing each other. V made no aggressive first move; instead, he let her strike first, reading her posture, gauging her reflexes. Kat threw a wild punch—sloppy, overextended—but he caught it effortlessly, twisting her wrist and guiding her off balance. She stumbled but barely managed to keep her footing, her body humming with tension.
"Good reflexes," he murmured, voice low, almost a growl. "But sloppy execution."
Kat smirked, wiping a bead of sweat from her temple. "You're talking a lot for a guy who's about to crush me."
V lunged, fast and controlled. Kat barely ducked under his fist, rolling on the mat and kicking out instinctively. She hit nothing but air, and he was on her in a heartbeat, his hand brushing her side as he deflected another strike. Heat surged where they touched, sharp and undeniable.
Every grapple, every block, every forced retreat brought them into close contact. Kat twisted under his weight, accidentally pressing herself against him in awkward, heart-stopping proximity. Her cheek brushed his chest, and she froze for a heartbeat, cursing herself silently for feeling it.
"You're holding your own... just barely," V murmured, his voice low, dangerous, brushing against her ear as he shifted to maintain leverage.
Kat's pulse hammered. "Barely is all I need," she snapped, rolling away, only to launch herself back into the fray.
They exchanged a series of rapid movements—blocks, counters, spins, grapples—that left them dangerously close more times than she could count. Kat ducked under his arm, slid past his torso, and tried to sweep his legs, but he pivoted effortlessly, catching her ankle and nearly toppling her.
"Not bad for a human," he said, smirk tugging at his lips as he pushed her back a step.
Kat growled, wiping sweat from her brow. "Fuck you."
They collided again, chest to chest briefly as she tried to shove him off. V's arms were unyielding, pressing her back into the mat for a fraction of a second longer than comfortable. Kat pushed, twisted, kicked, finally wriggling free—her body buzzing, adrenaline mingling with something far more distracting.
From the sidelines, Arden, Nyra, and Beth watched wide-eyed. Every close contact made them hold their breath, unsure if they should intervene or just marvel at the display. Even as Kat struggled, she was managing to stay on her feet against a man who could literally crush her with ease.
Kat lunged again, sweat stinging her eyes, muscles screaming. V countered with precision, pinning her briefly against the mat before releasing her with a shove that sent her skidding back. She bounced upright immediately, breathing hard, hair plastered to her forehead, a grin tugging at her lips despite the exhaustion.
V stepped back slightly, chest heaving just enough to show the effort, eyes locked on hers with a predatory intensity. "You've got fight," he murmured, voice low, dark, and dangerous.
Kat wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist, chest rising and falling, hair damp, eyes blazing. "And you've got a bad habit of talking too much," she shot back, smirk sharp, defiant.
The girls on the sidelines practically vibrated with excitement and nerves. Beth whispered, "She's holding her own... against him. Against V."
Nyra's hands were clenched into fists. "She's insane—but damn, she's brave."
Arden shook her head in disbelief. "She's determined is what she is."
Kat lunged one final time, grappling with him in a messy, heated tangle. Their bodies brushed, pressed, shifted, and the tension in the room was electric. V didn't push her off as immediately as before—every movement deliberate, every inch of proximity charged.
Finally, he stepped back, chest heaving, jaw tight. His eyes never left hers. "Not bad," he said lowly, voice almost a growl. "You're stronger than I thought."
Kat smirked, panting, hair plastered to her face, body drenched in sweat. "And you're... terrifyingly persistent," she countered.
The girls erupted into quiet cheers, eyes wide, muttering under their breath about her sheer audacity—and just how close she'd come to surviving a fight against a Brotherhood male three times her size.
Kat collapsed back onto the mat, chest heaving, a wicked grin tugging at her lips. "I survived. Barely. But I survived."
V's dark gaze lingered, every muscle still taut, every movement calculated. The storm inside him hadn't subsided—it had only sharpened. And Kat, hungover, exhausted, and smirking like a demon, had no idea just how much he was spiraling.
