The training hall was quieter than usual that afternoon. Sunlight streamed in through the high windows, casting long golden beams across the polished wooden floor. The muffled thuds of sparring partners echoed in the air, mixed with the occasional bark of an instructor's command.
Aria kept to her side of the room, practicing footwork drills with precision. Her body remembered the patterns even when her mind wandered, replaying yesterday's discovery in the library. The old leather-bound journal had been tucked behind a shelf, its pages filled with the thoughts of someone who, like her, had lived in silence. She had barely scratched the surface of its secrets before she'd been forced to hide it away.
She was halfway through a set when she felt it—an unfamiliar heat crawling along her skin. It wasn't from exertion. Her eyes flicked up and found him.
Alpha Kieran Vale stood at the far end of the hall, arms crossed, watching.
His gaze was sharp, predatory, and unreadable, yet there was something in the way it lingered on her—something heavy enough to make her heart falter. He wasn't observing a student. He was… tracking her.
The moment their eyes met, his jaw tightened. He said nothing, but a subtle shift in his posture made the air between them crackle.
"Nightshade," his voice cut through the room like a blade. "With me."
Every other trainee immediately stepped aside, as though the air itself had cleared a path.
She followed him to a secluded corner near the training ring. He didn't explain—just watched her like she was a puzzle only he could solve.
"You were distracted today." His tone was flat, but his eyes told another story—something simmering, restless.
Aria shook her head, trying to signal she was fine, but he stepped closer. Not enough to touch, but close enough for her to feel the pull of his presence.
"I'll decide if you're fine." The words came out low, almost a growl.
Her breath caught. Why did it sound like he was speaking to someone more than just a trainee?
Before she could react, another instructor approached, a young Beta named Dorian. "AlphaThorne, I'll take over Nightshade drills—"
"No." The refusal was sharp, immediate. "She stays with me."
The Beta blinked, clearly startled and shaken by the way he answered , but nodded and retreated.
Kieran's gaze returned to her, unblinking. "From now on, you train under me. Exclusively."
Aria frowned, unsure if this was punishment or… something else. But the way his eyes held hers—steady, unyielding—made her chest tighten.
What she didn't see was the war playing out behind those eyes. Kieran told himself this was strategy, that her skill needed refining, that her unusual silence made her unpredictable in battle. But deep down, he knew the truth—he didn't like the thought of anyone else getting close to her.
And that was dangerous.
"Again," he said simply.
She obeyed, moving through her footwork. He circled her like a predator, silent, eyes sharp. When she misstepped, he corrected her with a curt, "No—again."
Minutes stretched. His gaze never wavered.
"You rely too much on predictability," he finally said. "You leave your left side exposed."
She signed quickly, I'm not fast enough to—
He cut her off. "Then get faster."
The words should have stung, but there was no cruelty in his voice—only an expectation that she would improve.
They moved into sparring drills. He was relentless, his strikes controlled but forceful enough to test her reflexes. Every time she faltered, he was there, pushing her harder.
When her foot slipped again, his hand shot out, catching her by the wrist. The contact was brief—bare skin against bare skin—but it was enough to send a strange jolt racing up her arm.
She gasped silently, her eyes snapping to him.
For the first time since they began, his composure wavered. His fingers tightened, not painfully but with a strange urgency, before he released her as if the touch had burned him too.
"Focus," he said, though his voice was lower now, rougher.
She nodded quickly, but her thoughts were no longer steady. Something had shifted in that instant, something she couldn't name.
They trained for another hour before he finally stepped back. "That's enough."
Her body ached, but her mind was spinning. She reached for her water flask, glancing toward the other trainees. A few were watching her, their whispers carrying in the still air.
Kieran followed her gaze, his jaw tightening. "Ignore them."
She looked back at him, startled.
"They don't matter," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You answer to me now."
He moved with her, blocking her path without touching her. "You sparred well today. But your guard slipped… more than once."
She swallowed and signed quickly: I was tired.
A corner of his mouth curved—not in amusement, but in something sharper. "No. That wasn't fatigue."
Her fingers twitched, hesitant to sign again under the weight of his gaze. Something in the air between them was taut, electric.
Without warning, he stepped closer, bracing one hand against the wall beside her head. Not touching her, yet trapping her all the same. The heat of his body reached her, subtle but impossible to ignore.
"You fight better when you're focused," he said, voice low, like it was meant only for her. "But today… your attention wandered. To me."
Her breath caught. She hadn't thought he'd noticed. She hadn't meant for him to notice.
He leaned in slightly—not enough to breach propriety, but enough that she could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the controlled rise and fall of his chest. "Do I make you nervous, Nightshade?"
Her fingers moved before she could think: No.
A faint glimmer passed through his eyes, something unreadable. "Liar."
She stilled, uncertain if it was a challenge or an accusation.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. His gaze swept over her face—not in a way that felt lewd, but in a way that felt… claiming. As though he was memorizing her.
Then his voice dropped, rougher now. "I don't let go of what's mine."
The words hit her like a physical blow. Heat curled in her chest, warring with confusion. What's mine—as if he had some claim over her. As if…
But before she could respond, he pushed away from the wall and stepped back. The absence of his nearness left her breathless.
"Go get some rest," he said, already turning away. "We start earlier tomorrow."
She stood there long after he was gone, the heavy wooden doors swinging shut behind him. The room felt colder, emptier.
And yet, her heart still pounded in her ears.
Because no matter how she tried to dismiss it, one truth kept circling in her mind.
Alpha Kieran Thorne had looked at her today as though she already belonged to him.