"Ugh! I can't do this."
Willow broke out of her handstand with a frustrated groan, landing on her feet. Her hair clung to her temples with sweat as she glared at the mat.
Sylas, standing a few feet away, blinked in surprise. "Why did you stop?"
"Because I'm doing it wrong," she muttered, rubbing her gloved hands together.
"You weren't," he said, grabbing a water bottle and walking over. "You were fine, Willow."
She accepted it but still frowned. "I wasn't."
Sylas watched as she took a long drink, her shoulders tense. She'd been irritated since she arrived. He'd noticed the sharp edge in her movements, the way she seemed to be fighting more than just her body.
"Did something happen?" he asked. "Because I don't see any problems with your form. You're flexible, fast... determined."
Willow let out a shaky sigh, lowering the bottle. "This competition. The one with Genesis Academy. You know about it, right?"
He nodded slowly. "I do. Why? You don't sound thrilled."
