Chapter 211
FAYE
+25 Points
I drove my fist into the punching bag again, the impact stinging through my knuckles and up
my arm.
The gym echoed with every hit, steady and sharp–a rhythm I desperately needed. Thinking was the last thing I wanted to do today.
“Faye,” Irene grunted, tightening her grip on the bag as I kicked it hard enough to push her backward, “I’m serious. I don’t think this boxing thing is a good idea for a pregnant woman.”
I didn’t stop. I didn’t even look up. “Relax. I’m not fighting anyone.”
“Yeah, but you’re fighting something,” she muttered. “And if Alexander finds out I’m helping instead of talking you out of it, he’ll be mad.”
That earned a tiny huff of amusement from me, but I kept punching. “Alexander hasn’t really paid attention to me in almost two days. He doesn’t get to decide how I pass the time anymore.”
Irene blew out a slow breath. “He didn’t shut you out to be cold. Tomorrow is the fight. He has to focus. You know how he gets–he shuts the world out so he can get into that headspace of his.”
I slowed down, finally resting my forehead against the cool leather. My chest rose and fell
heavily.
“I know,” I whispered.
“And maybe,” Irene added more softly, “he didn’t want you to see him losing his cool a bit. Even alphas get nervous when death is on the calendar. He’s not a machine.”
I stepped back and wiped my face with the towel draped around my neck.
“So I should stop taking it personally,” I said.
“You should keep reminding him you’re with him,” she corrected. “That’s what he needs right
now.”
I let her words sink in, then nodded once.
After cooling off and drinking water, I headed back to the main house with sore muscles and a slightly steadier mind.
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Chapter 211
425 Parts
Later that night, I carried a tray into Alexander’s office. The door was slightly open, and I could see him standing by the window, tall and still, his silhouette sharp against the night.
He didn’t look over until I stepped inside.
“I brought you tea,” I said.
Alexander finally turned, and though his expression was neutral, something in his posture eased–barely, but enough that I noticed.
“Thank you,” he said, smiling a bit.
He walked to his desk without a word and sat down, picking up the cup with steady hands. He didn’t look nervous. He didn’t look shaken or scared or unsettled.
He looked… grounded.
“How are you not nervous?” I blurted out. I realized too late that it was a dumb question.
His lips twitched, not quite a smile. “I am nervous, Faye. But I don’t have the luxury of panicking… if that’s what you mean. I’ve spent days putting things in place, preparing mentally… reminding myself why I can’t fail.”
I let out a weak laugh. “I wish I could be like that.”
This time, he really did smile–small, tired, but real. “You don’t want to be like me,” he said quietly, shaking his head. Then he lifted a hand. “Come here.”
I walked toward him, and he pulled me gently onto his lap without another word. His arm wrapped around my waist as he studied my face.
“Tell me how you’re feeling,” he said softly.
The question caught in my throat. I couldn’t tell him everything–not tonight. Not when he was the one stepping into fire.
“I’m fine,” I lied lightly. “I just… needed a hug.”
His arms tightened around me without question. I curled into him, resting my head on his chest, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat wrap around the parts of me shaking inside.
I must have been more exhausted than I realized, because at some point the office blurred, and my eyes drifted shut.
The next thing I felt was movement–Alexander lifting me, carrying me out of the office. I didn’t open my eyes, just let myself sink into him as he laid me on our bed and pulled the blanket up around me.
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“I’ll finish what I need to do and join you soon,” he murmured.
425 Points
Morning light cracked through the curtains when I finally opened my eyes. I stretched, turning instinctively toward his side of the bed.
The sheets were cold, his pillow untouched.
Alexander had never come to bed. I guess he slept in the office.
The day passed really fast, and it was soon time for the match. I would have avoided the arena for my mental health because I wasn’t sure I could handle that right now. But I knew I needed to be there to support Alexander… remind him why he needed to break every barrier.
I stepped into the arena, and my breath caught immediately. The arena stretched out before me, a perfect circle scorched into the earth. Flames licked its edges like living guardians, casting long shadows that danced with every flicker.
The air was thick–not just with heat, but with expectation, with the kind of tension that made your skin prickle. Glowing embers drifted lazily, twirling in invisible currents. I could hear the faint crackle of the fire, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Alexander walked up beside me, calm and controlled. Every step he took was measured. My heart thumped in my chest, half from the heat, half from the sight of him. He had fought so many battles before, but this… this was different. This wasn’t a skirmish. This was a fight to
the death.
I swallowed hard, wishing I could somehow shield him. But I couldn’t. All I could do was watch, and hope.
“Hey, you ready?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
He smirked. “I am.”
The pack was already here. Wolves from every corner, their eyes glinting in the firelight, stood in tense clusters. Some whispered among themselves, excitement clear in their hushed
tones.
I saw Gerald. He was there too, standing off to the side with that smug smile that always made my blood boil. Marcus’s supporters were on the opposite side, their loyalty obvious in the way they carried themselves. They were ready to cheer or intervene if anything went
wrong.
The air buzzed with anticipation, a tangible current that made my stomach twist.
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+25 Points
And then he arrived. Marcus. I didn’t need to be told to know it was him. His resemblance to Alexander was obvious. They both looked like their father in a way… and the way he carried himself was something else.
He stepped into the ring like he owned it, like the flames had been waiting for him specifically. His eyes scanned Alexander, lingering with that infuriating mix of arrogance and challenge. He smirked, voice loud enough for everyone to hear, taunting, “Let’s see what you have, little brother.”
His words dripped with condescension, and I could feel my jaw tighten.
I kept my focus on Alexander. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t react verbally. He just looked calm… collected.
But I could see it in the small tension of his muscles. The way his hands flexed ever so slightly. He wasn’t rushing in. He wasn’t giving Marcus the satisfaction of seeing him unsettled.
He stepped back, letting the ring’s boundaries give him space. His gaze never left Marcus. My chest tightened with both pride and fear.
Marcus shifted first. His was a massive gray wolf. I swallowed.
Then Alexander shifted.
In a blink, Alexander’s form changed. Powerful muscles elongated, fur rippling along his back. His wolf form was magnificent as always.
But I could see it. Its golden eyes… that was Aiden, not Adrian.
He was holding back. The moment the bell went off and they stepped fully into the ring, I felt a surge of unease.
Alexander circled Marcus carefully, testing the ground, testing Marcus. Marcus returned in kind, a snarl curling his lips, eyes scanning for any weakness.
The first paw strikes were cautious–almost polite, a prelude. I held my breath each time, feeling every movement resonate through my chest. My mind raced. He’s holding back… why?
Marcus didn’t stay fair for long.
His rogue tactics came into play almost immediately. Lunges from unexpected angles. Strikes designed to destabilize rather than test. Moves meant to provoke and irritate.
He would kick up dust and strike Alexander before the dust settled. Alexander was following
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all the rules he learned as a pack warrior. I knew those rules too… every true warrior did. In a one–on–one challenge, like you don’t strike your opponent when they’re down unless they’re unable to get back up.
But this was not a regular one–on–one challenge; it was a ring fire. Marcus was skipping all the rules and getting away with it, because that was what the ring of fire was all about.
He tried again. Alexander countered, but always with the same measured restraint. Never taking full advantage.
My stomach twisted. He’s holding back too much… is he going to ignore the plan?
A few blows landed on Alexander–sharp, strategic hits that would have taken any ordinary wolf down. He countered with precision. But still, the fairness of his fight slowed him, limited
him.
I could feel my pulse in my throat. The fear built with each passing moment.
He was strong, skilled beyond measure. But Marcus was cunning, vicious even. This fight was unforgiving.
My eyes darted between them, my heart hammering faster with every clash of claws, the spray of dirt and sparks from impact flying around the ring.
I could hear the low growls, the quickened breaths, the soft hissing of exertion. The pack and
witnesses watched, riveted.
But I couldn’t think about them.
All my focus was on Alexander.
And still, he didn’t let Adrian take over.
The thought struck me like a knife. What if he never does? What if he continues to fight” fairly,” even as Marcus bends every rule in the book to break him down?
My chest was heavy. My hands balled into fists at my sides. The fire seemed hotter, closer. The shadows longer. The tension pressed down on me.
I noticed Cole was standing right behind me. Our eyes met when I turned slightly. Was he here to protect me in case things got ugly? I shook my head, ignoring the thought.
Cole seemed to have read my mind. “Don’t worry, Luna, he’ll be fine.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t help but feel my hope fray, my stomach twist, my pulse racing in panic.
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Please… please don’t ignore the plan, Alexander. Please… don’t hold back too long.
+25 Points
And then, in that moment, my fear solidified. My heart sank as the thought grew louder.
He’s going to ignore it. He’s going to try to do this without unleashing Adrian… and Marcus… Marcus will destroy him if he doesn’t.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
