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Pale sunlight filtered through the apartment windows, somehow melancholic despite its brightness. Silvija stirred awake with the laziness of someone who hadn't slept for two days. She yawned as her arms stretched lazily over her head. Her joints popped satisfyingly. She was in pure bliss until a certain masculine scent tickled her nose.
'Dante!'
Her hand instinctively reached for the pillow, only to find a faint impression that was already fading.
"He left…"
She poked at the pillow, a small pout forming on her lips. The gesture felt so unlike her, just so unguarded, so honest. When had she become the kind of woman who pouted over an empty bed?
The realization pulled her in deep thoughts.
Over the past two days, Dante had stripped away her defenses layer by layer and exposed the vulnerable woman under all the responsibilities. Her father would have criticized her for this softness, calling it a weakness. Then again, Ernst Sablinova had been her father long before he was the mercenary leader. He would've understood and perhaps even approved of choosing love alongside duty.
Because he had done the same.
'Is this ticklish feeling called love?' she wondered, pulling her knees against her chest and hugging them.
She felt like she could fight a whole squad to rescue Dante, yet so weak that she would've thrown a tantrum over a perfume's scent on his clothes.
She had no answer for herself, only the growing certainty that the woman she was becoming might be irreversibly different from the woman she had been. Did she regret it? Not even a bit, especially not when she had met someone as brilliant and powerful as Dante.
Her phone's sharp ring cut through her daydreaming.
"Miss." Anna's voice came slightly breathless, as if the young receptionist was panicking. "Dante and Ava—they are going to fight!"
The words splashed cold water on her fuzzy happiness, reminding her that she had both a tiger and a dragon under the same roof. "That stupid girl. I told her not to pick a fight with him."
She didn't bother ending the call. The phone flew to the bed as her body bolted out of the door, then dashed upstairs.
The training area's door exploded open under the force of her kick.
The scene that greeted her was exactly what she'd feared. Dante and Ava stood facing each other across the sparring floor. Ava was already in her White Tiger suit. Dante wore his hoodie and pants from yesterday, a faint sheen of perspiration on his face.
They both turned toward her simultaneously.
"Sis, you finally wore those pajamas." Ava's voice carried that particular tone of teasing satisfaction that only a younger sibling could manage. The girl was absolutely grinning behind her white tiger mask.
Dante tilted his head with that curious yet innocent look. "What do you mean finally? She never wore them before?"
"No, idiot. She probably did it for you." Ava crossed her arms, shaking her head like she was disappointed in her older sister. "Women in love… they are a different breed."
Heat crept up Silvija's cheeks, flushing her neck in shades of crimson that no willpower could suppress. It was exactly as Ava said. She'd chosen those pajamas specifically because they felt comfortable and also sent a signal that beneath the tactical gear was a woman with heart. A woman capable of love.
"It's cute though," Dante said. "Imagine someone you loved did it for you. Wouldn't you find it cute?"
White Tiger held her chin, contemplating seriously. Then she nodded her head. "It's sweet."
"Shut up, both of you!"
Both of them answered with a synchronized "No". The two had stopped their fight just to tease her, it was both infuriating and endearing.
"Ava, are you jealous?" Dante asked. "I'm getting more attention from your Sis. It must get on your nerves."
"She will always be my Sis! You won't take her from me!" The sound that escaped Ava was more animalistic than human.
Before Silvija could tell Ava to stop, Ava lunged forward explosively and swiped her right claw at him. Dante's response was almost lazy. He tilted his right shoulder just far enough that Ava's claws whistled past his face with centimeters to spare. It wasn't the reaction of someone panicking from a surprise attack.
"Stop!" Silvija ordered. "Don't fight!"
Both fighters turned to look at her, and without any prior agreement or discussion, they both said simultaneously, "No."
Silvija found herself standing speechless, watching two people she cared about ignore her authority. Under different circumstances it would have been funny, but not now. She was more concerned than angry.
Ava pressed forward with relentless aggression, performing her favorite combo of left claw strike, right claw follow-up, and a spinning kick—each attack was separated with microseconds. A move mastered to overwhelm through sheer pressure. She hadn't learned it through sparring, but through perfecting violence in underground fights.
Dante dodged the first two strikes with minimal effort, but the spinning kick caught him square in the ribs.
Silvija's breath stopped entirely. She could imagine the trajectory of his body flying backward and colliding with the wall. But instead of being thrown across the arena, Dante rolled, converting the kinetic energy into distance. He wouldn't have done it in their spar.
Her boyfriend was almost always within her reach, yet she could hardly track his growth.
"That's it!" Ava roared, and the hunger in those two words was palpable. "Let's see what you're actually made of."
"I was testing your limits," Dante replied with a faint smile. "Come at me now."
Ava's eyes widened behind her mask. "You just became stronger. Aren't you full of surprises?"
"Amped up my output. Just a heads-up, it's barely fifty percent of my peak." He winked at Silvija. "That's all I need to kick your ass."
White Tiger laughed. "I'll make you eat those words, mi amigo (my friend)."
They pounced at each other, and Silvija couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Dante was significantly faster than before. He achieved a speed that was superhuman without using his authority.
Ava's claws swiped through empty air again and again. White Tiger, who had been unparalleled in speed within the mercenary circle, was being toyed with.
She looked like a kid chasing an adult, completely outmaneuvered.
But Silvija's sharp eye caught the faint glow on the White Tiger Amulet—Ava had yet to fully unleash her power. The amulet had only burned at maximum intensity once before. The day Ava had nearly lost herself to bloodlust. A fifteen year old was barely contained by Wild Pack.
'She isn't acting rash anymore. She has complete control over the White Tiger.'
Silvija also understood why Dante didn't agree to her request. Dante had experienced a breakthrough in his strength and needed to test his abilities against a strong opponent.
Ava needed a worthy fighter to surpass her current limits—the only way she honored her brother Hector's legacy, measured her own worth, and repaid Silvija for helping her in the darkest moments of her life.
Silvija crossed her arms and observed the battle with a settled heart. Her heart leapt back up when Ava started laughing ferally, a laughter of pure joy that probably only came out during her underground matches, where Ava fought without the White Tiger suit.
'She is having fun.'
"The Bloody Beast" as they called her in the underground networks was a young warrior who'd carved a bloody path tournament after tournament through instinct and violence. Someone who had nothing left to lose but everything to prove to her new family. But never, in all her years of fighting, had Ava gone all out against someone while using the White Tiger amulet. Never had she found someone who could match her pace, her strength, her intensity.
—Until today.
Dante wasn't trying to match her. He was using her as a grindstone to sharpen his footstep, his punches, his kicks, and his combat awareness. Only after he grew bored did he stop leading Ava around and threw a punch, putting weight and intention behind it.
Ava matched it with her own punch, as the amulet's glow reached a bright glow.
The young Latina had stopped holding back.
The collision sent a shockwave that rippled through the arena, shaking loose equipment like a fierce gust of wind.
"Again!" Ava yelled, throwing a straight with her right hand.
Dante obliged with another equally powerful straight punch, making the equipment on the racks tremble again. A punching bag exploded, and a support beam dented visibly. The arena was taking visible damage from just shockwaves.
They stood face to face now, trying to overpower each other like sumo wrestlers.
The result was surprising. The one wielding the mystical amulet was pushed back in raw strength.
"Was he holding back against me? No... he grew strong."
Silvija felt something stir in her chest. As a mercenary, she had a deep appreciation for power. She'd always hoped for a companion whose power existed on the same spectrum as her own or surpassed it.
Dante far surpassed her expectations, and he would only grow stronger from now on.
Ava slipped out of Dante's grip and kicked his chest, separating from him.
For the first time, White Tiger's body language showed real surprise. "You're strong."
He smirked confidently. "Want to throw the white flag, chica (girl)?"
"I'm just getting started!" Ava snarled and pounced at him like the name of her amulet.
Now, with the knowledge that he could withstand serious force, Ava unleashed herself completely. This time Dante couldn't dodge every attack. He struggled as his hoodie was shredded, lines of blood appearing on his torso and arms from her claws. Each wound made Silvija's fists clench.
On paper, he might be faster than her, but White Tiger's unpredictable, almost instinctual movements were hard to react to, especially when she had the initiative.
Silvija wanted to end the fight there. The only reason she didn't intervene was because Dante's eyes never lost focus. There was no pain in his expression, no sign that the wounds were anything more than minor inconveniences.
He remained in perfect control.
The cuts that had bled began to close right before her eyes.
Silvija's heart was pounding like a freight train now, her breathing shallow as she watched two people she cared about engage in a dance both beautiful and terrible. A dance of blood and violence.
"Come on," Ava growled. "Stop playing it safe, Vice Commander. Fight me."
"I am fighting you."
"No, you aren't, cagueta (chicken)!"
They continued clashing, neither showing signs of slowing down. Yet as the battle continued, Silvija noticed that Dante received fewer and fewer wounds. He was adjusting to Ava, reading her patterns, doing to her exactly what he had done to Silvija during their sparring match. He wasn't a fighter who excelled with overwhelming skill and experience. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was the rookie in both battles.
He came out on top in Silvija's battle and was still hanging in this fight because of his talent in reading others. Because for all of Ava's wildness and feral aggression, there was still a rhythm to her movements. Pattern and variation, rhythm and anticipation—nothing was truly random, especially not in a high-speed, adrenaline fight. Dante read these patterns better than everyone Silvija had ever come across.
'I want him to win.'
Silvija found her hands clenching again. She wanted him to humble Ava, to remind her little sister that there were always stronger opponents, and always room to grow. It was a lesson Ava could only learn through defeat.
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