Word Count: 2397

~Aesira

Maven walks beside me so stiffly it looks unnatural.

The stick up her ass should be commended for its stability. I would tell her as much, but I don't imagine she's in the mood to hear it.

"This is a terrible idea," she grinds out.

We walk across the back lawn toward where Edwin stands over what, if I squint my eyes hard enough, appears to be a sparring mat. I am supposed to be 'training', after all.

This mistake of theirs is entirely on them.

"Cheer up Maven. Your Alpha can do no wrong," I remind her with a sardonic smile.

She scowls. "Your Alpha too."

I can tell she's especially irked this morning. Strands of brown hair have escaped her updo, floating around her face.  She hasn't bothered to right them, even as a darkly promising wind curls around us.

"Not yet he's not, and I shall bask in the final days of freedom from his title," I say, to which she rolls her eyes.

By the time the sparring mat is beneath our feet, a light spotting on rain has begun. Edwin doesn't seem bothered as he stares at me with a cool, bitter gaze.

He really is an asshole.

"Perhaps we should consider bringing this mat inside. This weather is only going to worsen," Maven exclaims worriedly, looking up at the heavy clouds the colour of slate.

"Afraid it will mess up your hair, Mav?" Edwin reaches out the scrub the top of her head but she slaps his hand away.

I watch the interaction warily, unnerved by the commanders out of character grin. Even Maven looks tempted to smile, but actively fights the urge.

"Don't touch me, and don't call me that," Maven scolds, taking her time to right her blouse. The admonishment of him is weak and ineffectual, which I suspect is for a reason.

Although I can't help but notice the golden wedding band on her finger.

Edwin glances at me, his expression hardening once he realises he was being watched. He looks more than ready to put me flat on my ass today. He wears a shirt with no sleeves, showing off his uncannily pale arms and the band tattoo that binds around his bicep.

The droplets of rain are beginning to fatten, falling more frequently. Maven looks at Edwin for instruction, hoping she can duck inside for refuge.

"The weather is irrelevant," he says instead.

"Where's Everin?" I ask, crossing my arms and looking across the empty lawn.

"That is Alpha Everin until you're married," he snaps. I don't flinch at his hard tone, but inwardly I bristle. "He is elsewhere. He's requested I begin your training to make you fitter, faster and stronger."

I'm not sure why they want to turn me into a weapon. It's their funeral, I suppose.

I grin. "Great. I want to spar with Maven first."

Her jaw slackens. "Me? That is a not happening."

"Perhaps we are evenly matched," I muse.

She takes a wary step backward. I wouldn't be opposed to a match against her, although I doubt that would be very fair. I don't think Maven has ever considered raising her hand to someone, when her voice does the job just fine.

"It will be you and me today." Edwin points between us. "First we warm up with some dynamic stretches before you run laps. Then I want to see your capabilities on this mat."

The mat is a thick slab of something spongy beneath my feet. I'm sure, going against Edwin, that I'm about to become well acquainted with it.

"Weapons?"

He shakes his head. "No. Don't look too eager, this is hand to hand combat today."

"Boring," I sigh.

Despite my resignation, I follow Edwin's swift and brutal warm-up commands. This exercise is something to fill my day with, and I'm silently looking forward to facing off with my fathers second most enemy.

By the time we're ready to spar, I'm loose and warm.

It's clear Edwin is trying to make me crack. He's run me back and forth and stretched me to the point of breaking, but each time I stand, ready and willing to continue.

My stamina is pretty weak. My father became wary of allowing me freedom in the lead up to this mission, so I'm a little out of breath now. Regardless, I feel strong and ready.

And excited.

Until movement out of the corner of my eye has me turning to see Everin has approached.

"What are you doing here?" I snap.

He glides his hands into his pockets, inspecting me as thoroughly as I do him. He's clearly been in a meeting with someone important. The jacket he wears is black with gold and lavender embroidery down the lapels, and his trousers are cut perfectly against his body. His hair is unkempt though, despite the rainfall, like he's stressed and been running his fingers through the raven lengths.

"I've come to monitor your progress," he says. "Why don't you get started."

He doesn't seem to mind the rain, which falls in sideways sheets against us. I can still see through the haze, although droplets bead against my lashes. It will be difficult to spar, which I imagine is part of the appeal to Edwin.

He wants to embarrass me.

I face him, shaking my limbs. Edwin has shed his shirt off, rain drenching his tattooed skin. He almost looks feral, although perhaps that's just what I can see in his eyes.

I'm wrong about him wanting to embarrass me. He wants to hurt me.

"Don't go easy on me, Commander," I purr, assuming position.

He cracks his neck, stepping closer. "We'll see how you do."

Like a fool, I flash a quick glance toward Everin. He stands beside a resigned Maven, who keeps looking longingly back at the manor. Her clothing is soaked through, and her hair has escaped its tie and sticks to either side of her face.

Why she insists on staying out-

My thoughts are brutally swept away as Edwin lashes out suddenly. His leg arcs toward mine in a flash, knocking mine out from under me, sending me sprawling onto my back.

I land with an embarrassing thunk. The air rips right out of lungs, leaving me gasping desperately.

Sucking in breath after breath, I hear Maven muttering a curse under her breath. Edwin looks over me, not attacking me while I'm down, which might be the only bit of honour he has ever demonstrated.

He's only achieved one thing, though. He's pissed me off.

"You're distracted." He angles his head, looking over my form.

I clutch my ribs, waiting for the burning sensation in my lungs to ease. "Fuck you."

"Get up, Aesira," Everin orders from beside me.

Gritting my teeth, I force myself back up to standing. My vision sways a little, my head swimming. He took advantage of my distraction, which is fair enough. Still, I'm a vengeful person.

Edwin looks to Everin. "There is much to be done—"

I'm moving before the sentence is out of his mouth. His head turns to realise my sudden proximity the moment I deal a blow to his jaw, jerking his head back and to the side.

He stumbles back a single step, loosening a violent curse in a language I don't understand. It must be native to this pack.

He immediately launches into his own assault, but I parry the movement, stepping to the side and around him, forcing him to turn. He does so ungracefully, eyes spending too much time searching for me and not enough time defending his knee from my strike against it.

He's large and slow, but more importantly, he's angry. He hates me, and because of that, he's not thinking.

I feel calm, centred. The issue is, my stamina isn't what it used to be — I need to make this quick.

He recovers from the blow to his knee shockingly fast. He throws a blunt punch straight at my nose, but I evade with a sharp step to the left, bowing around him with a quick jab to his ribs with my elbow.

He's genuinely trying to hit me like this is a tavern brawl. The strength behind his punches is going to leave me with shattered bone if I'm not careful.

The rain is blurring my vision as we face each other, both taking in breaths as we size each other up.

He comes at me first this time, eyes wild and enraged. He strikes at my face again, and when I attempt to pivot, my foot slips a little on the rain slick mat, weakening my movement. Two of his knuckles land against my jaw, throwing me to the side.

I barely grimace at the shock of pain yawning up the side of my head. I've been hit plenty of times, and while he has weight behind him, I can shake it off.

I want to win this. I have to.

"Be careful, Edwin. I don't need a bruised wife on our wedding day," Everin warns darkly. I forgot he was watching.

Edwin and I continue to spar. We land a few more hits against each other, although nothing serious enough to bruise strikes me again.

The rain and my lack of stamina is making this difficult, but I hold my own. He's a commander, but he fights sloppy when he's angry and vengeful, and I'm too stubborn to let him best me so easily.

Soon enough, I get his large form down onto the mat. I clamber a top him, pressing my knee to his throat, looking down at him as rain drips from my hair and runs down my cheeks.

"Come on Edwin. End this," Everin demands. He sounds so far away. I'm hyper-focused on the commander.

"I'm...trying," Edwin grits out, his face flushing red.

He manages to wrestle me off him, his eyes flaring wide. He's beyond wrathful. He looks like he wants me dead.

Suddenly I'm below him on the mat, Edwin's heavy body pinning my down. His hands wrap around my throat, his teeth bared. His eyes are are blank, boring into my with no mercy.

Oh fuck. I'm in danger.

His hands begin to squeeze, cutting off my breathing. Any hold around the throat in this context should be light and for the purpose of restraint. This, is to kill me.

I claw at his throat desperately, panic flaring as I make numerous failed attempts to breathe in. The more I struggle, the harder he squeezes. I try to get him off me, but he's using his body weight to lean over me, paralysing me me completely.

He's going to kill me. This is it. Dark spots are pricking my vision, my lungs burning.

And then, the pressure releases, and Edwin is pulled away from me.

He stumbles away violently from the force of Everin's pull. Edwin attempts to storm at me again, but Everin cuts in front of him, shoving him off. Seeing the two powerful males face off is daunting, although only one is capable of taking down the other.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Everin snaps, giving Edwin's shoulder another push.

The commander gestures at me, his voice like poison. "Killing her, like you should be doing."

My hand drifts to my neck, which I flex in an attempt to assess damage. I'm sure I'll be fine - I've experienced worse.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Everin growls. "You received no orders to do that. She is my fiancée, and you shall treat her as such unless I say so."

A muscle in Edwin's jaw tightens as he glares at me, then back at his Alpha. I expect more retaliation, but he lowers his head in submission.

"Yes sir."

I almost laugh, but my amusement would probably send him over a dark and furious edge. My throat really can't take the extra beating right now.

Maven clearly managed to manoeuvre her way out of here somewhere in the middle of the fight. I wish she stuck around to watch Edwin get humbled, although I was ultimately the one fighting for my life against the mat.

But knowing I held up that long against a commander is pretty satisfying.

Everin steps off, scrubbing a hand through his soaked hair. "Why didn't you put in any effort? You're to be in charge of her training..."

"She doesn't need fucking training." He sneers at me before looking at Everin. "And I was putting in effort."

Their attention sweeps to me at the same time. I force myself up, propping my hands on my hips.

"Can I just say, no one bothered to ask about my history of combat training," I remark, enjoying the collectively bewilderment on their faces. Especially Everin, who clearly underestimated me.

"You father-"

"He didn't train me. My friend did," I cut in. My father doesn't get to take any credit. "Give me a dagger and I can be pretty lethal."

Edwin jabs his finger in my direction, his eyes disturbingly bloodshot. "You need to put her down. Now."

Everin just looks at me, assesses me. The spark of curiosity in his eyes is dangerous.

"Still convinced you're safe from me?" I raise a brow.

His lips curve upward. "Perhaps we should fight next, and you can tell me how you'll do."

"Challenge accepted." Actually the thought makes me want to double over, but he doesn't need to see me waver.

Everin won't hurt me when our wedding is mere days away. After that, though, he can do whatever he wants to be without scrutiny. If he gets me on the mat, I'm not sure he would be merciful.

His eyes drop. "Your throat-"

"I'm fine." I clap my hands together, needing to get it of this rain. "If this shit show is over, I'm going to bathe."

Neither of them say anything as I turn on my heel and walk off, ignoring the growing aches in various parts of my body.

Everin may have saved my life, but I know I won today.

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~Midika 💜🐈‍⬛