Chapter 32 Chapter 32
AMINA
The air in the training room was thick enough to drown in.
It wasn't just the humidity of our combined sweat or the sterile scent of floor mats; it was the psychic weight of the truth. He hadn’t yelled. He hadn’t even mentioned it. He had just dragged me down here at four in the morning and told me to put on my gear.
"Again," Rian growled.
His voice was a jagged rasp that scraped against the raw edges of my nerves. He stood in the center of the reinforced room, shirtless, his skin slick and glowing under the harsh LED lights. The muscles of his back were a map of lethal intent, every corded sinew taut with a fury he refused to vocalize.
I lunged. I didn't use the Earth Pulse. He’d forbidden it for this session. This was about "physical resilience," he claimed, but I knew the truth: he wanted to feel me struggle. He wanted to anchor me to the physical world because he was terrified I was already halfway out the door.
He caught my strike with terrifying ease, his hand wrapping around my wrist like a silver-lined shackle. With a fluid, brutal twist, he jerked me forward. My chest slammed into his, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. The Mate Bond didn't just thrum; it detonated, sending a surge of unwanted, agonizing heat through my core.
"You're distracted," he hissed into my ear, his breath hot against my damp skin. "If I were an Enforcer, your arm would be snapped in three places. Focus, Amina."
"Hard to focus when my jailer is trying to turn me into a bruise," I spat, twisting my arm to break his grip. I managed to slip away, but he was on me instantly.
He swept my legs. I hit the mat hard, the world tilting for a second, but I rolled and came up swinging. My fist connected with his jaw, a solid, bone-jarring crack. It should have floored a human; it only made Rian smile, a dark, predatory expression that made my blood run cold and hot all at once.
"That's it," he murmured, his eyes flashing a dangerous, molten gold. "Use that anger. Use the hate you feel for me. Give me a reason to keep you pinned."
"You don't need a reason," I panted, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "You've been looking for an excuse to crush me since you found those files. Just say it, Rian! You're pissed that I’m looking for a way to save us from your goddamn family curse!"
He lunged again, but this time it wasn't a strike. It was a tackle. We hit the floor together, a tangle of limbs and gasping breath. He pinned my wrists above my head, his heavy weight settling between my thighs. The sheer, overwhelming masculinity of him was a physical assault. I could feel the hard line of his desire pressing against me, a silent contradiction to the fury in his eyes.
"You call it saving us?" he roared, his face inches from mine. "Ripping the soul out of our bodies? That ritual isn't a salvation, Amina. It's a suicide note. My grandfather tried to find a 'middle ground' and he ended up a hollowed-out corpse. I won't let you do it."
"It's my choice!" I screamed back, bucking beneath him. "My body, my power, my fucking life! You think you can just train the defiance out of me? You think if you push me hard enough, I'll forget that you're the one who put me in this cage?"
"I am the only thing keeping you alive!"
He released my wrists, but only to grab the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. He forced me to look at him, to see the raw, bleeding edge of his desperation. The Mate Bond was screaming now, a cacophony of mine, stay, never. It was a physical ache in my chest, a pulling sensation that demanded I stop fighting and just let him consume me.
The sexual tension was a third person in the room, thick and suffocating. Every time our skin met, it felt like a match being struck in a room full of gasoline. I wanted to bite him. I wanted to scream. I wanted him to stop talking and just finish what the bond started.
"You're suffocating me," I whispered, my voice breaking. "You're doing exactly what the Council wants. You're turning me into a weapon that only you can trigger. How is that different from what they did to Elias?"
Rian flinched as if I’d struck him. His grip loosened, his expression fracturing into something agonizingly vulnerable. For a heartbeat, the Alpha mask slipped, and I saw the man who was terrified that he was becoming the monster he hated.
"I'm trying to make you strong enough to survive me," he rasped.
He stood abruptly, pulling me up with him. He didn't give me a chance to recover. "Again. Defensive stance. Now."
"Rian, I'm spent. My legs are sore."
"I don't care! The Council won't care if you're tired! Move!"
He came at me with a speed that was a blur. I tried to pivot, to catch his momentum, but my muscles were screaming, lactic acid burning through my veins. I slipped. My foot caught the edge of the mat, and I went down, but Rian was already in motion, his shoulder aimed for a strike he couldn't pull back in time.
The impact was massive. I felt the air leave my lungs, a sharp, white-hot flash of pain radiating from my ribs. My head hit the reinforced floor with a sickening thud.
The world went black.
It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but when the grey fog lifted, the air in the room had changed. It was heavy, charged with a terrifying, primal static.
I couldn't move. My vision was swimming, but I felt the vibration of the floor. A low, guttural sound—something that wasn't human—echoed in the space.
"Amina..."
I blinked, trying to focus. Rian was over me, but he wasn't Rian anymore. Not entirely.
The transformation was mid-shift, a grotesque and beautiful display of power. His shoulders had broadened to an impossible width, his skin shimmering with the dark, coarse fur of the wolf. His hands were massive, claws retracted into thick, lethal pads, but his face... his face was a nightmare of grief and gold. His jaw had elongated, his canines white daggers against his dark lips.
He looked like a god of war mourning his prize.
He reached for me, his touch surprisingly gentle given the monstrous strength behind it. He slid his massive arms under me, lifting me against his chest. I was tiny in his grasp, a broken doll against a mountain of fur and muscle.
Then, the Mate Bond exploded.
It wasn't a thrum. It wasn't a pull. It was a total, unchecked tidal wave of his consciousness crashing into mine. There were no filters. No Alpha pride. No political strategy. Just the raw, bleeding core of his Lycan soul.
The conviction hit me so hard I felt my own Earth Pulse shudder in response. It was a promise written in blood and ancient magic, echoing through the link until it was the only thing I knew.
I will burn the Shroud to ash, his voice echoed in my mind, feral and absolute. I will tear the stars from the sky and end the world itself before I let you die, Mate. You are the heartbeat in my chest. You are the only thing that matters.
I looked up into those glowing, monstrous eyes, and I realized with a terrifying clarity: I had been looking for a way to sever the bond to save us.
But Rian Vale was already gone. There was only the wolf now, and the wolf would rather see the world burn than let me walk away.