Sires
David’s fist collided with Matilda’s jaw hard enough to snap her head sideways. The strike would’ve shattered human bone. Instead, she smiled as blood leaked from her mouth. She straightened slowly and rolled her shoulders, pacing in a circle.
A nagging tug she hadn’t quite learned how to ignore pulled her gaze up to her husband’s private quarters. He glared down at her with disdain, or admiration, or fear—it was difficult to decipher. She blew him a kiss and chuckled at the face he made. That time, she knew. It was unmistakable regret.
She tore her gaze from her husband and focused on her opponent.
David stood several feet away with his eyes fixed on her and his broad chest rising and falling as he flexed his hands.
A month after her rebirth, Dr. Blackwood’s experimentation had rebuilt David into something terrifying.
The gauntness that had once hollowed his features was gone, replaced by thick muscle stretched tight across scarred skin.
Even standing still, he looked dangerous, like a creature that was half wolf and half something else scratching at the surface, dying to release itself and decimate anything in its reach.
“You’re distracted,” he growled.
Matilda wiped blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “You hit softer than I remember.”
David barked a laugh and came at her again.
Their bodies collided with enough force to make Luka press his forehead to the glass in concern. David’s hands caught her shoulders, attempting to drive her backward. She twisted sharply beneath his grip and smashed her elbow into his ribs.
Something cracked and gave way.
David seethed, and the sound reverberated deep in his chest, low and animalistic. His eyes flashed black as he seized her wrist and forcefully threw her across the makeshift ring.
Matilda hit the packed dirt shoulder-first, rolled once, and sprang upright before he could close the distance.
The vampire in her had settled over the last month like a second skin, strengthening everything it touched. She could feel it in the effortless way her body moved, in the unnatural precision of her balance, and the acute sharpness of her senses.
David charged again.
She ducked beneath his swing and drove her fist into his stomach with enough force to stagger him backward several steps.
Before he recovered, she followed with another strike across his jaw.
Then another until David caught the fourth, and his large hand wrapped around her throat.
For a brief moment, they remained frozen there, his grip tightening while her fingers curled around his wrist.
“You pull your punches,” he rasped.
Matilda’s eyes narrowed. “Well… you are useless to me dead.”
A grin spread slowly across his face. Blood stained his sharp teeth.
“You couldn’t kill me if you tried,” he responded confidently before slamming her into a wooden support beam hard enough to splinter it down the center. The crack echoed through the empty field like the firing of a cannon.
Matilda hissed, more irritated than hurt, and drove her knee upward into his abdomen. David released her with a curse, and she used the opening, spinning behind him before locking her arm around his throat.
David laughed again, breathless that time around. “You know,” he managed, gripping her forearm as they struggled, “most queens spend their mornings doing embroidery.”
She tightened the hold until the muscles in his neck visibly strained. “Most queens are tiresome.”
With a violent twist, she threw him across the arena.
David crashed into the stone perimeter wall. Dust rained from the impact, but before he could fully recover, she was already moving.
She launched herself at him, and he barely caught her in time.
The collision sent them both slamming back into the wall with enough force to fracture stone. His hand tangled briefly in her curly hair as he shoved her away, and Matilda answered by dragging her claws across his chest, tearing fabric and skin with ease.
Fresh blood streaked across the scars already covering his torso.
David looked down at the damage and laughed under his breath.
“You’re enjoying this far too much.”
Matilda lunged again before he could react.
This time, she drove him flat onto his back and pinned him there, one knee against his chest while her forearm pressed across his throat. Both were breathing harder now as the cold morning air whipped around them.
David peered at her with black eyes bright with adrenaline. He smirked annoyingly. “Your husband is not pleased with our current position.”
Matilda froze just long enough to realize he was right. She didn’t have to look up; she could feel her husband’s displeasure settling in her bones. His grin spread with unmistakable satisfaction, and he laughed when she shoved herself off him and took several steps back.
Ezra sighed from the edge of the arena. He leaned against one of the outer wooden posts with his arms folded across his chest.
“We’re finished for the day,” he called out to the bloodthirsty creatures.
David spat blood into the dirt before climbing back to his feet. “Again.”
“I said that will be all for the day,” Ezra replied firmly.
David started to advance on Matilda again—his prey drive more intense than when he was simply a werewolf. He stopped before her, dust kicking up around their feet.
Matilda followed David’s eyes that settled on her neck.
“You greedy hybrid,” she teased. “I fed you two hours ago.” David’s gaze didn’t move from the pulse in her throat. “I should make you beg for it.” Matilda froze when David dropped to his knees before her and tilted his head back expectantly.
“This feels inappropriate,” Ezra remarked. Despite his unease, he was unable to tear his eyes away.
Matilda sliced her wrist with a subtle wince. “What’s inappropriate is stealing a mother’s placenta and creating a hybrid warrior without her consent.”
“I agree. Dr. Blackwood’s methods were… heavy-handed.”
Matilda snorted as David lapped up her blood. “Heavy-handed, you say?”
“Heavy-handed. Yet effective. David appears to be in excellent shape—better than when he was Beta David, if I may say so myself. He’s stronger, faster, and more primal.
And because your placenta was used, his abilities are superior to traditional werevamps because he was sired from an ancient bloodline.
Also, he is sired to Luka, you, and Little Denalia. ”
“Tragic,” Matilda replied with a wispy smile, pulling her wrist away. David muffled a moan and repeatedly licked his lips for every trace of blood. “To your feet, hybrid.” David obeyed without argument. “How do you feel?”
“Like I can challenge Prince Lykaon’s ranks and claim his title.”
Matilda nodded.
“Your optimism is noted.” She looked past him to Ezra. “What do you think, Ezra? Should we send the official challenge?”
“Let’s discuss with King Alesi.”
“Let us,” she agreed, stepping back and turning toward the castle.
She entered the castle, heeled boots thudding against thick rugs. She nodded at servants who stopped to curtsy with respect, and aggressively eyed one guard who snitched on her when she left their quarters in the middle of the night to hunt. He pretended not to notice.
Matilda stopped in the doorway of Luka’s private study where she found him at his desk, holding Denalia like she was a cloud he was fearful of disturbing.
He smoothed a hand down the front of her dress and tucked a curl away from her forehead, ensuring everything was in place.
He called her his ‘Little Doll’ when he thought no one was watching.
But it was the smile of contentment that made Matilda’s breath catch in her throat.
“She should be resting, love.”
“And you shouldn’t be giving vermin your blood, yet here we are.”
“We can’t afford for him to wither away, now can we?”
“I don’t have to like it,” he argued gently.
“Take your grievances to Dr. Blackwood.”
“Oh, I have,” he said confidently. “You have something you wish to discuss?”
“Lord Gustafson—”
“No Ezra?” he chided.
“Lord Gustafson and I believe he is ready.”
Ezra appeared at her side.
“What say you?” Luka asked.
“I say it is best to strike now than be surprised later.”
“And you are certain?” Luka asked. Outwardly, he wore a calm mask, but Matilda could tell he was fraught with nerves.
“I am certain.”
Luka stood with his daughter and heir cradled in his arms and approached the window. He stared at his kingdom and considered the inhabitants. If David failed, they would be collateral. But he had to have faith in his advisor and his wife.
“In a fortnight, send the official challenge.”