Chapter 15 The Brute's Method
POV: Mina (Age 17)
I walked into combat training the next day with my ribs still aching from the beating I'd taken during my first class.
Commander Hayes stood at the center of the arena, clipboard in hand, already assigning sparring partners. I kept my head down and waited for my name to be called, hoping I'd be paired with someone manageable.
"Sterling," Hayes called out. "You're with Steele."
My stomach dropped.
Logan Steele stepped into the arena with a grin that promised violence. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his massive shoulders, his eyes locked on me like I was prey he was about to devour.
This wasn't going to be a training exercise. This was going to be a massacre.
I pulled out my notepad and wrote quickly, holding it up for Hayes to see.
Request different partner. Previous injury not fully healed.
Hayes didn't even look at what I'd written. "Denied. Combat doesn't wait for injuries to heal. Get in the ring, Sterling."
Logan's grin widened. "Come on, cousin. Don't be shy. I promise I'll go easy on you."
The lie was so obvious that several students laughed.
I stepped into the marked fighting circle, my body already tensing in preparation for what was coming. Logan didn't do subtlety. He didn't do psychological warfare like Asher or calculated strategy like Jax. He just destroyed his opponents with raw power and brutal efficiency.
And he was about to use me as a demonstration.
Hayes blew the whistle.
Logan didn't waste time with testing strikes or cautious approaches. He charged straight at me like a freight train, his massive fist swinging toward my face with enough force to shatter bone.
I dodged, but barely. His fist passed so close to my head I felt the wind from it.
Before I could counter, his other hand grabbed my shoulder and yanked me forward. Then he slammed his knee into my stomach with devastating force.
All the air left my lungs in a painful rush. I doubled over, gasping, and Logan used my moment of weakness to grab the back of my shirt and throw me across the arena.
I hit the padded wall hard enough to see stars. My vision blurred and my ears rang, but I forced myself to roll away as Logan's boot came down where my head had been a second before.
He'd actually tried to stomp on my head.
"Come on, Sterling!" Logan shouted, his voice carrying across the entire arena. "Fight back! Or are you as broken as they say?"
Students had gathered around our ring, watching with a mixture of excitement and discomfort. Even by Academy standards, this was excessive. Logan wasn't just winning the match—he was trying to destroy me.
I pushed myself to my feet, my ribs screaming in protest. Something was definitely cracked from the throw against the wall. Maybe multiple somethings.
Logan charged again, and this time I couldn't dodge fast enough. His shoulder slammed into my chest and drove me backward into the floor. My head bounced off the mat and my vision went white with pain.
Then Logan was on top of me, his fist coming down again and again, breaking through my guard, connecting with my face and chest and arms.
I tasted blood in my mouth. Felt my ribs crack with each impact. My defensive stance was useless against his overwhelming strength and size advantage.
I couldn't use my full power. Couldn't fight like myself without exposing what I was. But fighting like Rafe meant taking this beating until Logan decided he was done.
"Pathetic," Logan snarled, grabbing my shirt and hauling me to my feet just to throw me across the arena again. "The great Sterling bloodline produces this? A weak little mute who can't even defend himself?"
I hit the ground and rolled, my body one massive bruise at this point. Blood dripped from my split lip and my left eye was already swelling shut.
In my mind, I heard Rafe's voice. Not through the bond—the bond was dead and gone. But a memory so vivid it felt real.
"Don't let them break you, sister. We finish this together. You're stronger than any of them know. Show them what we're made of."
Logan was coming at me again, confident that I was finished. That I'd stay down like a good little victim and let him have his victory.
But I thought about Rafe dead in the clearing. About the assassins who'd killed him. About Uncle Mordath and the Council and everyone who'd destroyed my family.
I thought about the promise I'd made over Rafe's grave.
And I channeled the forbidden arts.
Logan's fist came toward my face in a haymaker that would have knocked me unconscious. Instead of blocking or dodging, I moved into his strike, my hand coming up to meet his wrist at the exact moment of maximum extension.
The forbidden arts flowed through me like water. I didn't stop his punch—I redirected its force, using his own momentum against him while my other hand struck a pressure point on his elbow.
Logan's arm went numb and his balance shifted forward. I hooked my leg behind his knee and twisted, using technique over strength, precision over power.
He went down hard, his massive body hitting the mat with enough force to shake the entire arena.
I was on him instantly, my knee on his chest and my hand at his throat in the exact submission hold I'd used on Marcus during my first class.
The gym went completely silent.
Logan Steele lay on the floor, shocked, his eyes wide with disbelief that I'd actually put him down.
Then, slowly, his expression changed. The shock faded, replaced by something dangerous and excited. His eyes gleamed with a predatory interest that made my skin crawl.
He grinned up at me, blood on his teeth from where he'd bitten his tongue in the fall.
"There you are," he said softly, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Let's go again."
Before I could move, Commander Hayes blew the whistle.
"Match over. Sterling wins." Hayes's voice was neutral, but I saw him studying me with new interest. "Class dismissed. Everyone hit the showers."
I climbed off Logan and stepped back, my body screaming with pain from the beating I'd taken. I could feel blood dripping from various cuts on my face, and breathing was agony from my cracked ribs.
But I'd won.
Logan stood slowly, still grinning that dangerous grin. "Nice move, cousin. Didn't know you had that in you. Makes me want to see what else you're hiding."
I said nothing, just grabbed my bag and started limping toward the exit.
But I could feel eyes on me from across the arena.
All three members of the Elite Trio were watching me with intensified interest. Jax's ice-blue eyes were narrowed thoughtfully. Asher's dark gaze was calculating. And Logan was still grinning like he'd just found a new favorite toy.
I'd just become a challenge instead of easy prey.
And somehow, that felt even more dangerous.