Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
TORIN
T he ring is mine. It always has been, ever since we brought the tribes under our rule. No one comes here unless I say so. The air is thick with the scent of sweat, steel, and pine from the surrounding forest. The wooden posts of the training ring are jagged, splintered from years of strikes, and the ground beneath me is packed hard from countless fights. It’s a place of violence and purpose—a place where I can let loose, even during this frustrating Blood Moon truce.
I swing my axe, the heavy blade cutting through the air before biting into the dummy’s midsection. The satisfying crunch reverberates through my muscles. Another swing, this time harder, splitting the target clean in two. Sweat drips down my bare chest, the chill of the northern air doing nothing to cool me.
The Trials should be happening now. The thought churns in my head, sparking anger. This Blood Moon truce is a waste. If anything, the Trials should happen when we’re all at our strongest—when our power is at its peak. But no, instead we’re stuck, waiting, while I’m forced to keep my blades sharp on fucking dummies.
“Still sulking?”
Finn’s smooth voice cuts through my focus. I glance up to see him entering the ring, as calm and collected as always. He’s got that effortless air about him, like nothing could ever touch him, and it grates on me, even though I know he means well.
My eyes narrow as I notice who he’s brought with him. Sable.
She’s dressed for the first time in something practical—trousers and a loose linen blouse. The cold doesn’t seem to bother her, either. Most people, even warlocks, would be shivering in this weather, but not her. Her breath comes steady, her movements fluid, unaffected by the chill. I like that. It makes her feel… similar. Like she belongs in this world of frost and danger, even if she’s stubbornly fighting it.
That thought worms its way into my head, and I don’t hate it. In fact, it makes me want to see just how far that resilience goes.
The outfit clings in all the right places, and I immediately find myself imagining what she’d look like without it. My cock stirs, my body betraying me, and I grit my teeth, shifting my focus back to Finn.
“You brought the kitten,” I say, licking my lips.
“She needs to train,” Finn replies, leading her into the ring. “You’re the best at what you do, Torin. So, I figured you’d enjoy breaking her in.”
I laugh, low and rough, letting my eyes roam over her. “Oh, I’ll break her in all right. But don’t you have somewhere else to be, Ghost? ”
Finn leans casually against one of the posts, his arms crossed. “Not happening. I’ll stay right here, thanks.”
I roll my eyes but grin, shaking my head. Finn’s always been like this—steady, protective. He’s more like a big brother than my actual brothers ever were. A pang of memory hits me, but I shove it down. My brothers weren’t like Finn. They were bastards, every single one of them. I don’t need to dwell on that shit now.
Instead, I turn my attention back to Sable, who’s standing stiffly, her shoulders squared like she’s ready for a fight, but her gaze stubbornly fixed just past me. She’s trying so hard not to look at me, and I find it funny, endearing even. Like a kitten arching its back, hissing at a tiger. The corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk.
She’s remembering, I can tell. Remembering how her eyes betrayed her that night when I cornered her in her room. How she fought so hard to resist but still gave in—just a little. Enough to let me see what’s underneath all that defiance. I can still feel the heat of her body pressed against mine, the way she trembled but didn’t pull away.
And I’m going to make sure she gives in again. This time, all the way. I’ll peel back every layer of her stubborn pride until she’s mine, clawing at me like the feral little thing she is. It’s a game, and I’ve always been good at games.
“Well, kitten,” I say, taking a slow step toward her, “you’re looking...functional. Finn didn’t pick out that outfit, did he? He’s not much for practical clothing.”
Her glare snaps to me, fire already sparking in her eyes. “I dressed myself, thanks.”
“Shame,” I say, smirking. “I liked the nightgown better.”
As I step closer, I reach out, brushing my knuckles lightly along the side of her cheek. Her skin is soft, warm despite the bite of the cold air. She flinches slightly, her eyes narrowing, but she doesn’t pull away. I watch every flicker of emotion that crosses her face—anger, confusion, maybe even the tiniest hint of intrigue.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” I murmur, my voice low. Her lips part slightly, and I catch the quick rise and fall of her chest. That reaction—her trying so damn hard to hold herself together while I’m this close—it’s intoxicating.
Her nostrils flare, and she swats my hand away, glaring like she wants to set me on fire with her mind. “Don’t touch me.”
But I see it—the flush creeping up her neck, the way her breathing quickens. My grin widens, satisfaction pooling in my chest. I’ve rattled her, and damn if I don’t enjoy every second of it.
“Torin,” Finn warns from behind me, his voice sharp, but I just wave him off.
“I’m just making conversation,” I say, picking up a blade and spinning it lazily in my hand. “So, kitten, ready to play?”
“I’m not here to play,” she snaps, her voice taut.
“That’s a shame,” I reply, stalking a circle around her. “Because I think we’ll have fun.”
She folds her arms, her chin lifting in defiance. “What exactly is the point of this training?”
Finn cuts in, his tone practical. “To help you understand your powers. And, hopefully, to make you less of a liability.”
She glares at him, then at me. “And what happens if I say no?”
I chuckle darkly. “Oh, you don’t get to say no, kitten. Not here.”
We circle each other in the ring, my blade flipping idly between my hands as I watch her. She moves lightly, her weight balanced perfectly, her gaze darting over me like she’s sizing up every weak spot. She won’t find many. I’ve spent years honing this body, every muscle, every reflex, every brutal instinct.
Sable doesn’t look away, though. Gotta respect that.
I feint toward her, testing her reflexes. She sidesteps smoothly, her posture shifting as she mirrors my movements. “Not bad,” I say, tossing the blade from one hand to the other. “But I hope you’re not going to be this timid the whole time.”
“I’m not timid,” she snaps, darting forward just enough to make me step back. A spark of amusement flares in my chest. She’s quick.
We trade a few light moves, feeling each other out, and then she asks, “What exactly are the Trials?”
I grin, tossing the blade into the air and catching it. “Oh, Kitten, the Trials are where the fun really begins. Fights to the death, or near enough. No rules. No mercy.”
Her brow furrows. “And what’s the point?”
Finn, leaning against the post at the edge of the ring, answers before I can. “The Trials determine rank. Strength, skill, cunning—it’s how we prove who’s fit to lead. The three of us earned our place by dominating every Trial we entered.”
“Sounds barbaric,” she mutters, stepping back as I advance.
“Barbaric?” I echo, my grin widening. “Kitten, you’ve got no idea.” I take another step forward, forcing her to retreat further into the ring. “Let’s pick things up a notch, shall we? I want to see if you’ve got more than just sharp words.”
Finn doesn’t move from his spot, but his eyes track every move we make. “Don’t kill her, Reaper. Not yet, anyway.”
“Relax, Ghost,” I say, my focus locked on her. “I’m just getting started.”
I move toward her, tossing the blade aside. “Show me what you’ve got, kitten.”
Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, she hesitates. Then she lunges, her movements sharp and quick. I dodge easily, laughing as I sidestep her next move.
“Come on, kitten,” I taunt. “Is that all you’ve got? Show me the trick you pulled in the forest.”
Her jaw tightens. “I’m not showing you anything.”
“Oh, but you will,” I say, circling her like a predator. “I’ll make sure of it.”
She strikes again, this time aiming for my side. I catch her wrist, twisting just enough to make her stumble. But she recovers quickly, landing a solid punch against my ribs.
Pain flares, but it only makes me grin wider. “You’ve got fight in you. I like that.”
The more she struggles, the harder I get. Her movements are fierce, unrelenting, and every time she lands a hit, it’s like a jolt straight to my cock.
Finally, I catch her off guard, sweeping her legs out from under her and pinning her to the ground. She’s breathing hard beneath me, her chest heaving, and for a moment, I just stare down at her, my pulse thundering in my ears.
“Struggle,” I murmur, leaning in closer, my voice a rough, dark promise. “I like it when you struggle.”
Her breathing quickens, and the blaze of defiance in her eyes only stokes the fire inside me. Her chest rises and falls against mine, the warmth of her body beneath me making my blood sing. Every muscle in her body is taut, coiled like a spring, and yet there’s a flicker—just a flicker—of something softer in her gaze. Not submission. Not yet. But something that pulls at me in a way I can’t ignore.
She shifts beneath me, her lips parting as if she’s about to spit something sharp and cutting, and it’s all I can do not to drag my mouth down to hers. I can feel her heat through the thin fabric of her shirt, her rapid pulse pounding beneath my fingers where they grip her wrists. I’ve pinned plenty of people before, but this—this feels different. She’s different. And it’s maddening.
My cock stirs again, and I have to fight to keep my breathing steady. How does this human woman—this enemy—have such a hold on me? I’ve faced countless challenges, killed men stronger than me, felt the thrill of countless victories, but this...she’s not even fighting back right now, and yet I feel like I’m the one losing.
“Reaper,” a commanding voice cuts through the tension like a blade. Alpha.
I grit my teeth, but I don’t move at first. My gaze is locked on her, on the way her lips tremble ever so slightly, the way her pupils are blown wide as if she’s feeling the same pull I am.
“Reaper,” Alpha repeats, firmer this time. “That’s enough.”
With a frustrated growl, I push myself off her, standing and stepping back. My fists clench at my sides, the loss of her warmth almost unbearable.
“Why now?” I snap, turning to glare at Kael as he strides into the training area, every inch the composed, calculating leader. Finn stands behind him, arms crossed, his gaze unreadable.
Kael doesn’t flinch. He never does. “There are things to discuss. Save your games for later.”
I glance back at her. She’s still lying there, propped on her elbows, her chest rising and falling as she glares at me with equal parts fear and fury. My kitten. My perfect little fighter.
“Fine,” I mutter, though the word tastes bitter in my mouth. I don’t want to stop. I want to keep pushing her, keep pulling out every ounce of defiance until she has nothing left but me.
But Kael’s word is law, and much as it pains me to admit, he’s usually right.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I tell her, smirking as I grab a bottle of water and take a long drink. “We’re not done, kitten. Not by a long shot.”
As I walk toward the edge of the ring, I can feel her eyes burning into my back. My muscles are still taut, my blood still pumping straight into my cock, and it takes everything I have not to turn around and drag her back into the fight—back into my arms.