Chapter 91

VESTA'S POV

Sweat dripped down my forehead, stinging my eyes as I landed a solid kick on the heavy punching bag. My muscles screamed in protest, but I pushed them harder, channeling my frustration into each blow. Being suspended from the pack warriors was killing me. Training was my lifeblood, the rhythm of punches and kicks as familiar as my own heartbeat.

Alone in the training room, the only sounds were the rhythmic thud of my attacks and the ragged rasp of my breath. It was a far cry from the coordinated drills and sparring sessions I craved. But it was all I had for now.

Suddenly, the heavy door whooshed open, startling me. Dom, his broad frame filling the doorway, stood there looking mildly concerned.

"Lila," he said, his voice laced with a hint of worry. "You pushing yourself too hard?"

I ignored his question, continuing my assault on the punching bag. Each punch resonated with a dull thud, the sound echoing through the empty room.

Dom sighed, his footsteps heavy as he approached