Chapter 58 The Spar
Fernando stood before the polished bronze mirror in his private chamber, adjusting the ties of his tunic with deliberate care. The fabric clung to his broad shoulders, still marked by faint scars from the recent battles. He had just finished buckling his belt when a sharp knock echoed through the room. He paused, head tilting slightly as he sensed the familiar aura on the other side.
"Come in, Samael," he called.
The door swung open, and Samael entered, his massive frame filling the doorway. He closed it behind him with a soft click and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
"You look rested," Samael said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Got your fill last night?"
Fernando raised a brow, turning to face him. "What do you mean by that?"
Samael grinned, pushing off the wall. "Do not play dumb with me. It is obvious you and Alberto did something. He could not walk straight this morning during training. Limping like he sat on a thorn all night."
Fernando's expression remained neutral, but his eyes narrowed. "You will watch your tongue, or I will snap your head off. State why you are here."
Samael chuckled, unfazed. "Easy, Alpha. I came to inform you I will be going for the monthly border visit. We need to check the southern lines and visit the neighboring packs to strengthen our military alliances. It is Alberto's turn to be part of the escort."
Fernando froze mid-motion, his hand still on his belt. "Exempt him. Find someone else."
Samael shook his head. "I cannot do that. The rotation is set. If I exempt him, the others will notice. They already grumble about favoritism. He is one of the escort team this time."
Fernando groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You are serious?"
Samael nodded. "Dead serious. He pulls his weight like any other. Exempting him sets a bad precedent."
Fernando paced the room, frustration evident in every step. "He is not just any wolf. He is my mate."
Samael raised an eyebrow. "Then when do you plan to claim him publicly? You cannot keep hiding it forever. The pack will find out eventually."
Fernando stopped pacing and leaned against the table. "I am just enjoying the time we have now. Rolling with the flow. I am not sure if he is ready to stand by my side like that. Or if he can handle it."
Samael stepped closer, voice lowering. "Think through this carefully. Alberto acts strong, but he has a fragile heart. He has been through hell for you. If you doubt him, it will break him. Do not make him feel like he is not enough."
Fernando met Samael's gaze. "I know. I will figure it out."
Samael clapped him on the shoulder. "Do it soon. The pack needs stability. And he needs to know where he stands."
Fernando nodded. "Safe travels. Bring back good news from the alliances."
Samael grinned. "We will. And try not to snap anyone's head off while I am gone."
He left, the door closing behind him.
Fernando sank into a chair, staring at the wall. The thought of Alberto on the border visit gnawed at him, but Samael was right. Exempting him would raise questions. He had to let it happen.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings and patrols. Fernando threw himself into work, reviewing border reports and planning reinforcements. But his mind kept drifting to Alberto. By evening, the escort group had departed, Samael leading them out under the setting sun.
Fernando retired to his chamber, but sleep evaded him. He lay staring at the ceiling, worrying about the dangers on the border.
The next morning, a messenger arrived with word from Samael. They had reached the first neighboring pack and were negotiating alliances. No issues reported.
Fernando exhaled in relief. "Good. Keep me updated."
As the days stretched, Fernando focused on the pack's recovery. He visited the widows of the fallen wolves, distributed the traitors' wealth to rebuild homes, and trained with the guards to boost morale.
But every night, he felt the absence of Alberto's presence. The bond tugged at him, a constant reminder.
Two weeks in, another messenger arrived. "Lord Samael reports the alliances are strengthened. They move to the southern lines next."
Fernando nodded. "Any word on Alberto?"
The messenger bowed. "He performs well, Alpha. No issues."
Fernando dismissed him and returned to his duties.
The month dragged on. Fernando's cold demeanor softened slightly with the pack's progress, but the guilt over Liana still lingered.
Finally, a horn sounded from the gates. The escort group had returned.
Fernando stood on the battlements, watching Samael lead them in. Alberto rode near the front, looking tired but unharmed.
Relief flooded Fernando. He met them in the yard.
"Samael," Fernando said. "Report."
Samael dismounted. "Alliances secure. Borders stable. No threats detected."
Fernando nodded. "Good work."
His eyes met Alberto's. "Dismissed."
Alberto bowed and left for the slave quarters.
That night, Fernando slipped to the east wing. Alberto was waiting.
They embraced. "I missed you," Fernando whispered.
Alberto kissed him. "I missed you too."
They made love slowly, savoring the reunion.
In the days that followed, their secret continued. Alberto trained hard, enduring the pains from their nights without complaint. Samael noticed but said nothing.
Darius crossed the training yard with long, measured strides, his cloak snapping behind him in the morning breeze. The yard was already alive with activity, wolves in various stages of warm-up, wooden swords clacking and feet thudding against packed earth. As he passed, every trainee paused and bowed their head in respect, fists thumping against chests in salute. The gesture rippled through the ranks like wind through tall grass.
Samael stood at the center circle, arms folded, watching the drills with a critical eye. He caught sight of Darius and grinned wide.
“Well, look who finally emerged from the paperwork cave,” Samael called. “Has your beta work increased so much we hardly see you around anymore?”
Darius stopped beside him, returning the nods of nearby trainees. “You should ask the Alpha. He decided to dump half his workload on me so he could spend more time with his mate.” His gaze slid pointedly to Alberto, who was stretching in the far line, unaware of the attention.
Samael burst out laughing, the sound booming across the yard. Several trainees glanced over, curious.
“Jealous, Darius?” Samael teased, elbowing him. “Someone finally moved the immovable Fernando?”
Darius shrugged his shoulders, expression neutral. “Jealousy is for pups. I am simply observing.”
Samael wiped a tear from his eye. “Observing. Right. You have been ‘observing’ Alberto every time he is in the yard for weeks.”
Darius ignored the jab and climbed the low podium at the edge of the field. He raised his voice, and the yard fell silent.
“Attention!”
Every wolf snapped to position, feet together, eyes forward.
Darius scanned the ranks. “Today I will inspect training progress. Samael has been in charge. I want to see if he has been doing his job.”
Samael leaned against a post, still grinning. “Go ahead. They are ready.”
Darius pointed to ten trainees, his finger landing on each in turn. “You. You. You. And you. Alberto. Step forward.”
The selected wolves moved to the front, forming a line. Alberto stood among them, posture straight despite the lingering soreness from the previous night.
Darius paired them quickly. “First pair. Kael and Torin. Second pair. Lena and Bram. Third pair. Rorik and Elise. Fourth pair. Joran and Silas. Fifth pair. Alberto and Gavyn.”
The pairs faced each other in the marked circles.
Darius raised his hand. “Begin on my mark. Full contact. Wooden blades only. First to three clean touches wins. No holding back.”
He dropped his hand.
The yard erupted in motion.
Kael and Torin circled, blades clashing in quick testing strikes. Kael feinted high and struck low, scoring first touch on Torin’s thigh.
Lena and Bram fought with controlled fury, Lena's speed against Bram's strength. Bram blocked a flurry and countered with a thrust that tapped Lena's shoulder.
Rorik and Elise danced around each other, Elise using footwork to evade Rorik's heavier swings. She slipped inside his guard and tapped his ribs twice in rapid succession.
Joran and Silas traded heavy blows, wood cracking loud. Silas scored on Joran's arm, then took a hit to the chest.
Alberto and Gavyn faced off last. Gavyn was larger, a veteran trainee with reach and power. Alberto moved lighter, eyes focused.
Gavyn attacked first, a powerful overhead strike. Alberto sidestepped and tapped Gavyn's side.
"One," Darius called.
Gavyn growled and pressed, blade whipping in arcs. Alberto blocked, retreated, then darted in for a touch on Gavyn's forearm.
"Two."
The yard watched. Samael folded his arms, expression proud.
Gavyn lunged desperately. Alberto parried, spun, and struck Gavyn's back.
"Three. Alberto wins."
Cheers rose from the trainees.
Darius nodded approval. "Good work. Next pairs."
The sparring continued. Darius called scores, corrected form, praised clean strikes, and rebuked sloppy defense.
Kael won his match. Lena took hers. Elise dominated. Silas edged Joran.
Darius walked the circles, voice sharp. "Footwork, Rorik. You are flat-footed."
"Watch your guard, Bram. Lena almost took your head."
"Speed, Joran. Power means nothing if you are slow."
The trainees pushed harder under his eye.
When the last match ended, sweat-soaked wolves stood panting.
Darius addressed them all. "Progress is clear. Samael has done well. But there is room for improvement. We train harder tomorrow."
The trainees bowed and dispersed to cool down.
Samael approached Darius. "Satisfied?"
Darius glanced at Alberto toweling off. "They are coming along."
Samael smirked. "Especially one."
Darius ignored it. "Keep pushing them."
He left the yard, mind already on reports waiting in his office.
The training ground buzzed with post-spar chatter, wolves comparing bruises and techniques.
Alberto lingered, catching his breath, the soreness a constant reminder of Fernando's passion.
The pack trained on, stronger for every challenge.