Bloodoath

Selene barely slept.

Even after leaving Killian's chambers, his words clung to her like a curse. Tomorrow, we begin your real training.

What did that mean? Had today's brutal drills only been the beginning?

She lay awake in her chambers, staring at the ceiling, her body aching from the relentless sparring with Lena. Every muscle screamed in protest, but it wasn't just the physical pain keeping her from sleep.

It was him.

His touch, his voice, the way his presence suffocated the air around her.

She hated how aware she was of him.

Hated that the mate bond made her body react when her mind wanted nothing more than to escape.

As dawn broke, the heavy doors to her chamber swung open without warning.

"Get up," Lena ordered.

Selene groaned but forced herself to sit. "Do you ever knock?"

Lena smirked. "You're in the Alpha King's fortress. There's no such thing as privacy."

Selene rolled her eyes but swung her legs off the bed. "Let me guess. More training?"

Lena tilted her head. "Something like that."

Something in her tone made Selene pause.

It wasn't just another day of drills.

Something was different.

Her instincts prickled as she stood and followed Lena through the halls once more. This time, the fortress seemed more alive—more wolves moving about, murmuring in hushed voices.

Something was happening.

Lena led her outside, and the moment Selene stepped into the courtyard, she knew.

A crowd had gathered, warriors forming a wide circle around the training grounds. But they weren't here to watch a sparring match.

No.

They were here for her.

And at the center of it all stood Killian.

He was shirtless, his powerful frame bathed in the morning light, his silver eyes locked onto hers the moment she appeared. A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips.

Selene's stomach twisted.

This was a challenge.

A test.

The real training he had promised.

Lena nudged her forward. "Go on, little wolf."

Selene swallowed hard but stepped into the ring. "What is this?"

Killian tilted his head. "A lesson."

Her pulse hammered. "In what?"

He grinned.

"Obedience."

The crowd tensed as he stepped closer.

"I told you before," he murmured. "You belong to me."

Selene clenched her fists. "I belong to no one."

Killian exhaled, shaking his head. "Defiant little thing, aren't you?"

She didn't answer.

"Here's how this works," he continued. "If you can land a single hit on me—just one—I'll give you something in return."

She narrowed her eyes. "And if I lose?"

His smirk deepened. "Then you kneel."

A hush fell over the crowd.

Selene's breath caught. "You want me to kneel?"

Killian took another step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You need to understand something, Selene. I don't tolerate disobedience. If you want to survive in my kingdom, you will learn to submit."

Heat flared through her, but it wasn't just anger. It was something darker, more dangerous.

The bond burned between them, thickening the air.

She wanted to fight him.

She had to fight him.

Because if she didn't—if she gave in now—she'd never be free.

Selene rolled her shoulders. "Fine."

A satisfied gleam flashed in Killian's eyes. "Good girl."

Then he lunged.

Selene barely had time to react before he was on her.

She ducked, dodging his first strike, but Killian was impossibly fast. Faster than Lena. Faster than anyone she had ever fought.

He moved like a shadow, like a storm crashing down upon her.

She barely blocked his next attack, his forearm slamming into hers with enough force to send her stumbling back.

The crowd watched in tense silence, their gazes locked on the battle before them.

Selene refused to lose.

Not to him.

She lashed out, aiming a kick at his ribs.

Killian caught her ankle midair.

Her eyes widened.

His grip tightened, and before she could react, he flipped her.

The world spun, and the next thing she knew, her back hit the ground—hard.

A gasp left her lips as pain shot through her spine.

Killian stood over her, his expression unreadable.

Selene gritted her teeth and scrambled to her feet.

She charged again, striking faster this time. A flurry of punches, kicks—every move she had trained for.

But it didn't matter.

He was faster. Stronger. More experienced.

Every strike she threw, he countered effortlessly. Every attack she launched, he anticipated.

And then, in one brutal move, he swept her legs out from under her.

Selene hit the dirt with a sharp thud, her breath punching from her lungs.

Killian crouched beside her, his voice low.

"You lost."

Selene squeezed her eyes shut, humiliation washing over her.

The crowd waited.

Killian stood tall, his presence commanding.

"Kneel."

Her heart pounded.

Her pride screamed at her to refuse.

But she knew what defying him meant.

He would make this worse.

Slowly—hating herself for it—Selene pushed onto her knees.

The moment she did, the crowd erupted into whispers.

Killian's fingers brushed over her hair, a mockery of affection. "Good girl."

Selene trembled—not from fear.

From rage.

Killian leaned in, his breath ghosting over her ear.

"This is only the beginning."

Then he turned and walked away, leaving her there.

Kneeling in the dirt.