Chapter 33 Yeild
Sebastian POV
I stood in the center of the fighting ring, waiting. My boots were planted in the dirt and my arms crossed over my chest. My gaze was fixed on the far end of the field where she’d be walking in any second now. Every nerve in my body was taut, ready—not just for the fight, but for the storm she always managed to bring with her.
Around me, a few of the younger trainees had abandoned their drills, blades, and practice weapons, which were hanging and forgotten at their sides. They watched from the edge of the ring with barely restrained curiosity. Of course, they would. No one ever got to see the king spar. And certainly not with his queen.
Queen.
I could tell she was uncomfortable with the weight of that title. Sometimes I felt as if it didn’t sit right, as if she was too pure for this kind of world. But it would seem the Moon goddess had other plans.
The air was crisp and cool with the bite of approaching dusk. The training grounds, normally a place of order and discipline, began filling with anticipation. I could feel it—the subtle shift in energy as trainees, guards, and even workers began to fill the grounds around me.
I was told she knew how to fight. I mean, I did in fact look through all of her information when she was chosen as the second from her pack to attend the ball. She was always at the top of her training classes. And to top that off she never failed any single subject in her studies, with everything being above and beyond.
And that one day in the field.. when she dodged even me.. everyone knows it. They’re excited to see how strong our Queen truly is. And this I the perfect opportunity.
A rustle from the observation balcony drew my attention briefly. Soon to be Luna Lola. Draped in ivory and silver like she belonged in a court painting, not the dirt and sweat of a training yard. Her smile was pleasant and polite. But her eyes—they were ice as she looked around.
And next to her stood my cousin, Alpha Braden, the same icy look in his eyes, except they were locked on me, with a fake smile plastered on his face.
The scent of Amara’s wolf hit me before I saw her. Dark, earthy, a little wild. Like midnight forests and danger.. topped with the sweet scent of innocence and wildflowers of Amara.
And then she stepped into view.
Her expression was unreadable, but I knew her well enough to catch the flicker of anticipation in her eyes. She was excited. She liked this. And I hated how much I liked that she liked it. But maybe.. this is where I’ve always been wrong.
I couldn’t protect.. my.. but I can teach her how to.
I didn’t say anything as she silently walked my way. I didn’t need to. I just stepped back into position and waited for her to meet me in the ring.
The moment she stepped into the ring my eyes soaked her in. She was wearing a pair of fitted black trousers—clearly not made for a lady of the court. I wonder where she managed to get those. She wore a pair of her unworn riding boots, laced high and tight. And I couldn’t help as my eyes drifted over the corset-style bodice that hugged her torso.. The deep burgundy fabric glinted faintly in the sun, a bold contrast to the plain white linen of her undershirt.
My mouth practically watered when my eyes caught a glimpse of the main attraction of her attire. Her supple breasts pressed firmly beneath her top. The bodice made it to where there was just enough cleavage, and just enough room to move around freely.
“My eyes are up here.” Amara’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I blinked once, then dragged my eyes up to meet hers. She was already smirking—barely, but enough to make my jaw tick.
“I wasn’t looking,” I lied flatly.
“No, that’s right. You were staring,” she shot back, stepping into place across from me.
That damn mouth.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t give her the satisfaction. But she was right—I had been staring. And now that she was standing across from me, posture straight, shoulders squared, I could see just how much control she actually had.
She wasn’t afraid. Not of me. Not of the attention. Not of the eyes on her from every corner of the grounds.
Maybe she really was a queen.
“Ready when you are, your Majesty,” she said, a voice dipped in challenge.
My nostrils flared.
Fine. She wanted to dance? Then let’s see how long she can keep her footing.
I didn’t give a warning. Just shifted my stance, subtle and measured.. just enough to watch how she responded.
Her eyes caught it instantly. She was alert—good. But her weight was too far on her right leg.
I moved.
In two strides I was in front of her, throwing a jab toward her shoulder. She went to dodge, and that was her mistake. I pivoted, cutting off her escape, and swept a leg behind hers. Her boot caught my foot, and I used her momentum to pull her forward—right into me.
She hit my chest with a soft thud, breath catching.
Her hands immediately went to push off, but I caught one wrist mid-air and twisted it gently behind her back, stepping into her space until we were chest to chest. My other hand found her waist, steadying her—not to be kind, but to remind her who had control.
“You’re off balance,” I murmured.
“I’m not,” she snapped, trying to jerk away.
But she was. I know it. She knows it.
She tried to turn into me and break the hold, but I anticipated it before her body even moved. I spun her around, her back now pressed to my chest, her arm still pinned. I could feel her breath quicken, frustration radiating off her in waves.
She hates losing. I can see that.
Good.
“Is this how you plan to protect yourself?” I asked lowly, my lips near her ear. “By throwing yourself into your opponent’s arms?”
Her breath quickened and I saw the hair stand on the back of her neck. Sparks shot through me just at the touch of her.
But then, she snarled—actually snarled at me— and I almost laughed.
Then she moved. Fast.
She threw her head back, aiming for my face, but I angled just enough to avoid it. It was a dirty move. I liked it. She tried to sweep my leg, but I stepped out of range, releasing her wrist just enough for her to spin around.
I caught her by the waist mid-turn and swept her legs out cleanly this time, her back hitting the ground with a thud.
I hovered over her, hands braced on either side of her shoulders, knees pinning her legs beneath mine.
“Yield,” I said, voice low and steady.
Her chest rose and fell quickly beneath me, but her eyes.. they shined with anything but submission.
“Never.”