My vision hazes red. My shadows lash violently around us, cracking a nearby vase and sending books flying as fury boils through me like molten metal. The room fills with my Alpha scent—pure, overwhelming possessive fury.
Another Alpha. Another Alpha touched her, trained her, taught her body pleasure before I could claim her.
"Asher was brought in as my training partner when I turned eighteen," she continues defiantly.
The image of him touching her, training her, knowing her body before I did—it makes my blood burn with an intensity that threatens to consume me entirely. My fangs are fully descended, my Alpha barely restrained.
"Stand up," I command, my voice dropping into that Alpha register that compels obedience. I rise abruptly as power crackles through the air, my shadows moving the chairs aside to clear the center of the room.
She eyes me warily, recognizing the danger in my tone. "Why?"
"Because," I snarl, my shadows pushing the remaining furniture back against the walls, "I want you to show me exactly what your precious Asher taught you. Every. Single. Thing."
She stands reluctantly, golden eyes narrowed. Her scent is complex now—fear, defiance, and underneath it all, arousal.
"What exactly do you want me to demonstrate?"
"Everything," I growl, stalking toward her. My Alpha is in full control now, possessive and territorial and furious. "Did he stand close like this?" I circle her predatorily, my breath hot against her neck, close enough to scent her unmarked scent gland. "Did his Alpha hands linger when adjusting your stance? Did he whisper instructions in your ear while pressed against your back?"
"Stop," she warns, but I can feel her body's treacherous response through our weakened bond—a flicker of unwanted heat.
"Show me how you fight," I command suddenly, stepping back. "Attack me as if you mean to kill me."
She hesitates only a moment before reaching into a hidden pocket, withdrawing a dagger. The blade gleams wickedly as she lunges, but I sidestep with inhuman Alpha speed, my shadows capturing her wrist.
"Pathetic," I taunt, twisting until the blade clatters to the floor. "Is that really how the famous Order of the Silent Blade trains its Omega killers? Or did you spend more time on your back taking his knot than in actual combat training?"
Fury explodes across her face like wildfire. This time when she moves, it's with a ferocity that catches even me off guard. Her foot connects with my sternum hard enough to send me back several steps, and a second dagger—drawn from another concealed pocket—misses my throat by mere inches.
My shadows surge forward, but she's already moving, shrugging off her outer robe to reveal the simpler dress beneath. Two more blades appear in her hands as she attacks with mesmerizing skill and breathtaking speed.
"That's better," I laugh as one blade draws blood across my forearm. "The kitten has claws after all. Show me more, Omega."
She responds with a complex series of strikes that force me to concentrate fully, her body moving with a viper's stillness. Each movement flows seamlessly into the next.
"Did he knot you after training sessions like this?" I ask, blocking a vicious strike aimed at my face. "When you were both sweating and blood-hot from combat? Did you wrap those lovely thighs around him right there on the training mats?"
"Shut your filthy mouth," she snarls, attacking with renewed vigor.
"Did you beg for his bite?" I continue ruthlessly. "Did you bare your throat and plead for him to mark you as his?"
With a scream of pure rage, she lunges at me recklessly, abandoning technique for raw fury. My shadows seize the opportunity, wrapping around her in mid-air and slamming her against the wall with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs. Still, she struggles magnificently, refusing to yield even when completely at my mercy.
I approach slowly, savoring her helplessness as my shadows pin her arms above her head. "Was that the complete truth? That the man who I tore from the inside out was your lover, your trainer, the first man to touch you?"
"Yes," she hisses through clenched teeth, golden eyes blazing with hatred so pure it's almost beautiful. "Are you satisfied now, you bastard?"
"Not even close," I murmur, tracing my finger along her jaw with deceptive gentleness. My thumb grazes her unmarked scent gland, and I feel her shudder. "Tell me the second truth. What else do you hope to gain from our arrangement besides your brother's safety?"
She goes perfectly still, calculation visible in her golden eyes. "Freedom," she finally whispers, the word carrying the weight of desperation. "For myself. For my people. For everyone trapped in this endless cycle of violence."
I laugh with genuine amusement at her audacity. "And how exactly do you plan to achieve that lofty goal while bound to me by a fated mate bond that grows stronger every day?"
"I'll find a way," she promises with absolute conviction that sends a thrill through me. "I always do."
CHAPTER 18
JULIA
