It was supposed to be a straightforward training exercise, but Eric had been pushing everyone extra hard that day. You were tired, sore, and more than a little annoyed by his relentless critiques.

“Again,” he ordered, barely looking up from his clipboard.

You glared, catching your breath. “Maybe if you’d actually show us how to do it, we’d get it right.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a lesson plan? This is Dauntless, not a tea party.”

You crossed your arms, refusing to back down. “A little constructive feedback wouldn’t kill you.”

He chuckled, clearly amused. “Stop punching like a scared kitten, and maybe you’ll survive here.”

“Funny, coming from the guy who barely trains himself,” you shot back, hands on your hips. “I think I’d survive just fine with a clipboard to hide behind.”

His smirk faded, and for a moment, you thought you’d crossed a line. But then he tilted his head, eyes narrowed. “You really think you’re ready to take me on?” He tossed his clipboard aside. “Show me.”

The other initiates watched, wide-eyed, as you squared off. Eric gestured for you to come at him, smirk back in full force. “Well? Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You lunged, throwing a punch he dodged with ease, laughing as he sidestepped. “Sloppy,” he chided, grabbing your arm to spin you off balance.

Heat rose in your cheeks as you righted yourself. “Just warming up,” you retorted, aiming another punch.

This time, he let you land it—barely grazing his shoulder, but enough to wipe the smirk off his face.

He glanced down at his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Not bad,” he admitted grudgingly. “But don’t think that’s a victory.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, fighting a grin.

As he walked away, clipboard in hand, he called over his shoulder, “Better keep up, rookie. Next time, I won’t go easy on you.” But you caught a flicker of a smile and, just maybe, a hint of respect.