Madison stumbled back three steps, arms windmilling, cursing under her breath. Very dignified. Ten out of ten recovery.
Soo-Jin braced wide, boots skidding an inch before she locked in, jaw tight, eyes tracking every move like she was already calculating kill angles. Of course she was. Always ready to ruin someone's day.
Peter felt the gust slam his chest like a heavyweight hook—enough force to flip a Humvee sideways or strip leaves off trees for a block. And she was holding back.
Casual.
He could feel it screaming through their bond: raw, apocalyptic power leashed tight because she didn't want to accidentally turn the cavern into a demolition derby or turn her favorite mortals into paste.
This was her at like 0000.1% output.
The thought hit like ice water and adrenaline at the same time.
Terrifying.
Hot as hell.
The duality of man.
