It should have been a spar. Instead, it became a battle.

But first, I had to survive the rest of yesterday.

Caleb had left the library without another word, practically running from Darius's Alpha command. I'd grabbed my things and walked out too, refusing to look at Darius, refusing to acknowledge what he'd done.

He'd followed me all the way back to my dorm. Silent. Watching.

I'd slammed the door in his face.

My wolf had howled all night, confused and hurt and angry. She didn't understand why our mate kept pushing and pulling, claiming and rejecting, acting like he owned us when he'd made it clear he didn't want us.

I didn't understand either.

But I knew one thing: I was done being his punching bag.

Combat Training was mandatory for all students. Twice a week, everyone gathered in the arena to spar under the watchful eye of Coach Ramsey, a grizzled former Alpha who'd retired from active pack leadership but still had enough bite to keep even the cockiest students in line.

I'd been dreading it all morning.

The arena was an outdoor space behind the main training building, surrounded by bleachers and covered in fine sand that was supposed to cushion falls. Supposed to. I'd seen enough training sessions from a distance to know that the sand got stained with blood regularly.

Students were already warming up when I arrived. Stretching. Practicing strikes. Showing off for each other.

I found a spot near the edge and started my own warm-up routine, trying to ignore the stares.

"Alright, listen up!" Coach Ramsey's voice boomed across the arena. He stood in the center, arms crossed, looking like he could still tear through half the students here without breaking a sweat. "Today we're doing partner sparring. I'll be assigning matches based on skill level and weight class."

Groans echoed through the crowd.

"None of that," Ramsey snapped. "You don't get to pick your opponents in real fights. You work with what you're given."

He started reading off names from his clipboard. Pairs were called and moved to designated sections of the arena. Some matches looked even. Others... not so much.

I waited, hoping I'd get paired with someone reasonable. Another new student, maybe. Or a Beta who wouldn't try to kill me.

"Bennett!"

I straightened.

"You're with Fenrir."

The arena went dead silent.

Every single head turned to look at me. Then at Darius, who stood on the opposite side of the arena with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face.

"Coach," I said carefully. "I don't think—"

"Did I ask what you think, Bennett?"

"No, sir, but—"

"Then get in position." He gestured to the center ring. "Fenrir, center. Now."

Darius moved. So did I, because refusing a direct order from Coach Ramsey was a good way to get expelled.

We faced each other in the sand. Ten feet apart. Close enough that I could see every detail of his face. The tension in his jaw. The gold flickering in his eyes.

The bond hummed between us, electric and angry.

Students crowded around the edge of the ring, whispering.

"She's dead."

"He's going to destroy her."

"This is insane. She barely has her wolf."

"She'll be crushed in seconds."

My hands curled into fists. My wolf stirred, responding to their mockery with a low growl.

"Standard rules," Ramsey said, walking around us in a slow circle. "Fight until submission, knockout, or until I call it. No killing blows. No permanent damage. Everything else is fair game." He stopped and looked directly at Darius. "That includes Alphas who think they can throw their weight around. You fight clean, Fenrir, or you're out. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Ramsey's eyes shifted to me. "You sure about this, Bennett? You can forfeit if you're not ready."

Every instinct screamed at me to take the out. To avoid the humiliation of getting destroyed in front of the entire class.

But then I saw the look on Darius's face. That slight smirk. That absolute certainty that I'd back down.

That I'd show my throat like a good little wolf and let him win.

"I'm sure," I said.

Ramsey nodded once. "Alright then." He stepped back. "Fighters ready?"

I dropped into a defensive stance. Darius did the same, moving with the kind of fluid grace that came from years of training.

"Fight!"

Darius moved first.

He came at me fast, closing the distance in three strides. His first strike was a test, a jab aimed at my shoulder that I barely blocked. The impact jarred my arm.

He was holding back.

That made it worse somehow. Like he was proving a point. Like he was showing everyone that I wasn't worth his full effort.

My wolf snarled.

I countered with a low kick aimed at his knee. He dodged easily, stepping back, circling.

"Come on, Elara," he said quietly. "You can do better than that."

"Shut up and fight."

His eyes flashed. "Careful what you wish for."

He came at me again, faster this time. A combination of strikes that forced me back, back, back until I was nearly at the edge of the ring. Students pressed in closer, sensing blood.

I ducked under his last punch and rolled to the side, getting some distance.

My wolf was restless. Angry. She wanted to fight properly, wanted to shift and tear into him with claws and teeth.

But I'd never shifted before. Didn't know how. Didn't know if I even could.

So I fought as a human. Using the self-defense moves my uncle had taught me. The dirty tricks I'd learned from growing up unwanted and having to defend myself.

Darius lunged. I sidestepped and drove my elbow into his ribs. Not hard enough to do real damage, but enough to make him grunt.

The crowd gasped.

"Good," Ramsey called out. "Use your speed, Bennett. You're smaller. Make it count."

Darius's expression darkened. His wolf was closer to the surface now, I could feel it through the bond. Feel his irritation that I'd actually landed a hit.

He stopped holding back.

The next strike came so fast I almost didn't see it. His fist connected with my shoulder and sent me stumbling. I caught myself before I fell, but barely.

Pain bloomed across my arm.

My wolf surged forward, protective and furious. She pushed strength into my limbs, heightening my reflexes, sharpening my senses.

I could feel her power flooding through me even though I hadn't shifted.

Darius charged again. This time I was ready.

I dropped low and swept his legs. He went down hard, sand flying. Before he could recover, I was on him, knee pressed to his chest, arm cocked back for a strike.

Our eyes met.

The bond screamed between us. Want. Need. Anger. Confusion.

"Submit," I said.

His wolf rose to meet mine. Gold eyes blazing. "Never."

He bucked me off with pure strength, and we both scrambled to our feet. The sand was churned up now, our footprints everywhere, evidence of the battle neither of us was willing to lose.

The crowd was going insane.

"Did she just take him down?"

"Holy shit."

"He's not even trying."

"Are you kidding? Look at his face. He's pissed."

Darius and I circled each other. Both breathing hard. Both bleeding from minor cuts and scrapes.

"You're stronger than you look," he said.

"You're not as good as you think you are."

His jaw tightened. "Last chance to yield."

"You first."

We clashed again. Fists and feet and pure stubborn will. He was stronger, faster, better trained. But I was angry. Fueled by every rejection, every insult, every moment he'd made me feel like I was nothing.

My wolf poured power into every strike. More than I'd known I had. More than should be possible for someone who'd only gotten their wolf a few days ago.

Darius blocked most of my hits, but not all of them. I could see the surprise in his eyes. The reassessment.

He hadn't expected me to fight back this hard.

Hadn't expected me to be a challenge.

The fight grew brutal. Less controlled. We were both running on instinct now, wolves and humans tangled together, fighting for dominance in a battle that was about so much more than a training exercise.

I saw my opening.

Darius overextended on a punch, his guard dropping for just a second. My wolf screamed at me to take it.

So I did.

I drove my fist forward with everything I had, aiming for his face. He tried to dodge but wasn't fast enough.

My knuckles connected with his jaw.

The impact sent him stumbling back. He caught himself, hand going to his face, and when he pulled it away, blood stained his fingers.

His blood.

Red drops fell to the sand, dark against the pale ground.

The entire arena went silent.

Darius stared at his hand. Then at me.

And the look in his eyes was something I'd never seen before.

Not anger.

Not pride.

Something else entirely.

No one had ever bested the Alpha heir. Until me.

The silence lasted maybe three seconds. Then the arena exploded.

"She drew his blood!"

"Did you see that?"

"Holy shit, she actually hit him!"

"The Alpha heir is bleeding!"

Gasps echoed from every direction. Students pressed closer to the ring, phones out, recording. This would be all over social media within the hour. By dinner, the entire supernatural community would know that Darius Fenrir had been bloodied by a girl who'd just gotten her wolf.

By his rejected mate.

I stood there, fist still raised, chest heaving. My knuckles throbbed. My whole body ached from the fight, muscles screaming from exertion I wasn't used to. My wolf was restless inside me, still ready to fight, still pouring adrenaline through my system.

But I refused to show it. Refused to let them see me shake.

Darius touched his jaw again, his fingers coming away red. He stared at the blood like he couldn't quite believe it was real.

Then his eyes lifted to mine.

The look on his face made my breath catch. Not anger, exactly. Something more complicated. Shock. Respect. And underneath it all, something that looked almost like... hunger.

"Match!" Coach Ramsey's voice cut through the noise. He stepped between us, hands raised. "That's enough. Both of you, stand down."

I lowered my fist slowly. My arm trembled with the effort of holding it steady.

Darius didn't move. Just kept staring at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

"Fenrir!" Ramsey barked. "I said stand down!"

Darius finally broke eye contact. He wiped the blood from his jaw with the back of his hand and turned away, walking out of the ring without a word.

The crowd parted for him like water.

"Bennett," Ramsey said, his voice softer now. "You good?"

"Yes, sir."

He studied me for a moment, and I could see the assessment in his eyes. He'd been watching the whole fight. Had seen exactly how much power I'd pulled from my wolf.

"Get yourself checked out at the infirmary," he said finally. "That's an order."

"I'm fine."

"That wasn't a suggestion." He jerked his head toward the exit. "Go. Now."

I didn't have the energy to argue. My legs were shaking now that the adrenaline was fading. Pain bloomed across my ribs where Darius had landed a particularly brutal hit.

I walked out of the arena with my head up, refusing to limp even though every step hurt. Students whispered as I passed, but I didn't look at them. Didn't acknowledge them.

Just kept walking.

The infirmary was on the ground floor of the medical building, a small clinic staffed by a nurse who doubled as the school's healer. Mrs. Chen was a tiny woman with steel-gray hair and hands that glowed faintly when she worked.

She took one look at me and pointed to an examination table. "Sit."

I sat.

She moved around me efficiently, checking my ribs, my arms, the bruise forming on my shoulder. Her hands glowed softly as she worked, warmth spreading through my injuries.

"You're lucky," she said. "Nothing broken. Just bruised pretty badly."

"Great."

"Who did this to you?"

"Sparring accident."

Her eyes narrowed. "Try again."

I sighed. "Darius Fenrir."

"Ah." She pressed her hand against my ribs, and I hissed as warmth flooded the injury. "I heard about that match. The whole school's talking about it."

"Of course they are."

"You made him bleed. That's not a small thing."

"I got lucky."

"Luck had nothing to do with it." She pulled her hand away, the glow fading. "Your wolf is strong. Stronger than most newly-shifted wolves have any right to be."

I didn't know what to say to that.

Mrs. Chen studied me for a long moment. "You're the rejected mate, aren't you?"

My jaw tightened. "Yes."

"Then I'd say he got what he deserved." She patted my shoulder gently. "You're cleared to go. Just take it easy for the rest of the day. No more fighting."

"Wasn't planning on it."

I slid off the table and headed for the door, but her voice stopped me.

"Elara?"

I turned.

"Don't let them make you feel weak," she said quietly. "What you did today? That took courage most of these students will never have."

Something in my chest tightened. I nodded once and left before I could do something embarrassing like cry.

The walk back to my dorm felt endless. Every muscle protested. My wolf had finally settled, exhausted from the fight, leaving me to deal with the aftermath alone.

Students stared as I passed through the courtyard. Some looked impressed. Others looked scared. A few just looked confused, like they couldn't reconcile the image of the weak, wolfless girl with the person who'd made Darius Fenrir bleed.

I climbed the stairs to my floor slowly, using the railing for support. My room was at the end of the hall, and I'd never been more grateful to see that door in my life.

I was fumbling with my keys when I felt him.

The bond pulled tight, a warning I'd learned to recognize.

Darius.

I turned around. He stood at the other end of the hallway, watching me. Blood still stained the corner of his mouth, dried now but visible. His jaw was already bruising.

We stared at each other across the distance.

Then he started walking. Slow. Deliberate. Predatory.

My wolf stirred weakly, torn between running toward him and running away.

I stayed put. Partly because I was too tired to run. Partly because I was done being afraid of him.

He stopped a foot away, close enough that I could smell the sweat and sand still clinging to him. Close enough that the bond hummed between us, searching for connection.

"We need to talk," he said.

"No, we don't."

"Elara—"

"I'm tired, Darius. I hurt everywhere. And I really don't have the energy for whatever this is." I turned back to my door.

His hand shot out and caught my wrist. Not gentle. Not bruising. But firm enough that I couldn't pull away without a fight.

"Let go," I said quietly.

"Not until you listen."

"There's nothing to listen to."

"Yes, there is." His voice was low, almost too quiet to hear. "What you did today... in the arena..."

"What about it?"

"You shouldn't have been able to do that."

I looked up at him. His eyes were blazing gold, his wolf right there beneath the surface. The bond pulsed between us, thick with emotions I couldn't untangle.

"Do what?" I asked. "Fight back? Stand up for myself? Refuse to roll over and let you dominate me?"

"That's not—" He stopped himself, jaw clenching. "You're a newly shifted wolf. You should barely be able to stand against a Beta, let alone an Alpha."

"Maybe you're not as strong as you think you are."

His grip tightened slightly. "Or maybe you're not as weak as I thought."

The words hung between us.

Not an apology. Not exactly. But something close. An admission that he'd been wrong. That he'd underestimated me.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I asked.

"It's supposed to be the truth."

"The truth is that you rejected me because you thought I was weak. Because you thought I wasn't good enough to be your mate." My voice shook slightly, but I kept going. "So what happens now that you know I'm not weak? Do you suddenly want me back? Is that how this works?"

"It's not that simple."

"Actually, it is." I yanked my wrist free from his grip. "You made your choice, Darius. You don't get to take it back just because I surprised you."

"Elara—"

"I'm done with this conversation."

I unlocked my door and stepped inside, ready to slam it in his face for the second time in two days.

But he caught it with one hand, holding it open.

"You're not as weak as I thought," he said again, his voice dropping to something almost dangerous. His eyes blazed as he stared at me, really looked at me, like he was finally seeing what had been there all along.

And then he let go of the door and walked away.