Evangeline
Zedkiel gave Alistair some tasks about what he wanted him to do with me later before he led me away. I didn't question where we were going, but I wish I did now.
I stare at the handsome man before me as he lets the door swing shut behind us. I look at the huge room before us — there are weight training machines, lifting benches, treadmills, and other equipment. There are three punching bags to the side and an open area for sparring, too. I don't understand why he waited until Alistair had finished my makeup and hair — all that effort to get dolled up, only for him to bring me to an indoor training room. I am urged to ask him that very question when he removes his shirt, and my mind goes blank.
My heart races as I stare at those delicious abs and how his body flexes, and my gaze falls on the tattoo on his arm as he tosses his shirt aside and looks at me. "Take your heels off," he commands, and I look down before obeying. I purse my lips, looking at him as he circles me.
"Spit it out," he snarls, making me jump.
"What?" I ask, looking at him with surprise.
"Whatever's on your mind. From this day forward, you are not an omega but my fiancée — an equal. And unless you act like it, we won't get through this," he says, walking off to the shelves on the side.
I hesitate before frowning. My freedom is riding on this. I have to do my best and behave fearlessly. I nod to myself before looking at his back, trying not to stare at his ass. I wonder what it feels like. I'm sure it would be hard."I'm waiting," he growls, making me blink.
"Uh, I was wondering why you let Alistair do my makeup if you were going to bring me here to train," I state bravely.
He pauses, and my heart skips a beat as he cranes his neck, looking back at me, "So, you've got sass."
I hope I don’t get into trouble. He told me to speak. I stay silent until he comes back with some boxing gloves. "Warm up, then put these on. Let's see what you've got." He tosses the gloves at me, and I catch them, placing them aside.
Warm up… just like in Physical Ed at school. I drop onto the floor, wishing I wasn't wearing jeans. I wasted time getting dressed for no reason at all. I am not happy, but I can't really blame him. He did say training began in the morning.
After five minutes of stretching, I stand up, aware of the Prince's gaze. He steps closer. "Put the gloves on." I obey as he continues watching me.
"From what I have learned, they will have a match of physical strength between the lunas. Even if you fail one or two tasks, it's not an issue, but I at least need to prove that you are strong enough to hold some position."
He gestures for me to come at him. "Attack me. Let's see what you've got."
I stare up at him, trying not to pay attention to his sizzling body in just those sweatpants. I gulp, and he smirks, gripping my chin and forcing me to look up into his gold-green eyes. "We're here to train. You can admire my physique later."
I don't think I have ever blushed deeper. My cheeks burn, and I pout. "I wasn't…" I trail off when he raises a brow.
Remembering his command to attack him, I hesitate. Does he want me to just attack him? I don’t know much, but I will try my best. I have watched Sinclair long enough to imitate a few moves.
"Come at me," he commands, and taking a deep breath, I move forward and punch him with all my might, gasping when it connects straight with his stomach. Pain shoots up my arm, and I flinch, staggering back.
"Ouch," I whimper, waiting for his anger, but nothing. I cradle my poor hand, staring at those abs. Why is he so hard?!He cocks a brow and steps back. "Okay. You don't even know how to throw a punch." Despite my failure, he doesn’t seem angry.
"Sorry. I wasn't allowed to train," I mumble, feeling the throbbing pain in my wrist.
He nods. "Did you want to train?" he asks. "Imitate me." His stance shifts, and he punches forward. I check out his posture, trying not to focus on how his body looks or how that ridge of his V disappears into his sweatpants, and I copy him.
"Yes, I did. I always thought it would be nice to know some moves to defend myself," I say as he throws a combo. I copy, and he comes behind me. I gasp when he grips my waist, my heart thundering. He nudges my ankle with his foot, fixing my stance.
"Always keep your feet level to your shoulders. Don't keep them so together, or you will lose your balance," he commands. I nod, trying to focus, but only when he moves back can I do so.
I do as he showed me, and he nods. "So, you do have it in you to learn. Tell me, Little Mouse, do you do better under pressure or fear?"
My heart thuds as he does another two-move combo, and I imitate his move. "Neither."
"Oh yeah? Then how do you expect to learn?"
I frown in concentration, trying my best to get my stance right. "By working hard. Not everything is done by fear or force, Zedkiel," I reply, freezing when I realise I just said his name. My heart thuds as he grips my elbow, turning me to face him. I was so lost trying to do better that I didn't even think!
"What did you just say?" his eyes are burning red, and my stomach plummets.
"That not everything is achieved by fear or force." My nightmare flashes before my eyes, and I try to pull free as fear creeps into me, but he refuses to let go.
"After that," he growls, his hand curling under my chin.
His name."Zedkiel," I whisper. Our eyes lock, and his gaze dips to my lips.
"I like that," he growls before a cold, slight smirk crosses his face, making my cheeks burn.
Goddess...He brushes his thumb over my lips before running it down the centre of my neck. If he wants, he could kill me right now. "Then we'll do this your way. I will push you, Little Mouse, and I expect to see results."
"I won't disappoint us," I say quietly, and I mean it because this is important to both of us.
He nods before he steps back, his eyes hardening as he commands me to workout on one of the punching bags, saying I need to build my stamina. And so I do, using the few combos he showed me against the punching bag. He leaves me after a while and begins using one of the other punching bags. His every punch hits the bag, slamming it back each time. His hand or leg hitting it also sends a promising thud through the room. I can feel his rage and anger as he channels it into the bag.
He is powerful, and when the bag breaks in the middle, he swears, stepping back looking down at the pile of sand on the floor.
He steps back, breathing hard, his entire body glistening with sweat. "Fucking hell, these are supposed to be reinforced by magic," he mutters.
He had been beating it relentlessly. I couldn't blame the poor bag.
I definitely don't want to be on the receiving end like that bag!He turns to me. "Now spar with me."
I nod, swallowing hard, as I turn my attention to him. Oh, why is he so distracting?"Focus, Little Mouse, you can-"
The doors open, and we both turn to see Chasyn and Maryka enter. Both are in gym wear, and I wonder how ridiculous I look in here with my makeup and jeans that make it a little hard to kick in. I bet my makeup is streaking down my face. Or worse, I look like a real panda! I know I'm sweating!
"Zed, Evangeline, what a surprise," Chasyn says.
Zedkiel cocks a brow. "Maryka doesn't usually train," he remarks, turning away from the couple.
"I used to. I just got a little relaxed when I became Chasyn's Luna. I'm just brushing up for the tournament. I guess you two are doing the same?" Maryka says, looking at me keenly.
I'm an awful person to think this, but I wouldn't say I like her much. I like Lucia. I know Maryka is the Prince's fated mate. I understand that, but I just wish Chasyn would let Lucia go then. Why are the lives of omegas so lonely?
"Everything okay?" Chasyn asks me, and I realise I was staring at him.
"Oh, sorry. I was… thinking," I say, but all eyes are still on me, waiting for me to elaborate. I clear my throat and look at Zedkiel, but he's simply wiping his neck with a small towel. "I was thinking Luna Maryka, and I could spar?" I lie, making Chasyn chuckle and Maryka smile.
"You can call her Maryka. You will be sisters-in-law soon enough," Chasyn says with a smile.
Sisters-in-law, I forgot the marriage part."Of course! Let's spar!" Maryka exclaims, stepping forward and pulling on her half gloves. Her toned figure is well-defined in her leggings and sports bra, showing that she is still fit and in shape even if she doesn't train often.
"If Zedkiel doesn't have an issue, of course," Chasyn adds.
"No. Let them spar," Zedkiel replies.
We step apart, and I remove the gloves as Zedkiel takes them from me. Maryka smiles sweetly. "I'll go easy on you."
"Please don't," I reply. I know I will lose, but this will give me a good idea of what I would be up against.
"Okay then." Wow, she agreed fast. I swallow hard, my heart thumping as I wonder if I will be killed if I offend any of them.
"Okay then, on three. One… Two… Three!" Chasyn's signal goes, and, in a blink, Maryka darts at me, punching me in the face. I gasp as my head snaps to the side, feeling the jarring pain in my neck and cheeks as I stumble back.
Zedkiel snarls, about to step forward. At the same time, Chasyn does, his eyes widening in alarm and fear for his Luna. "It's fine. We're fine. Please," I whisper to Zedkiel, the taste of blood in my mouth. My heart thumps loudly, and I look at the brunette — a competitive glint in her eyes.
Of course there will be. They all want to win.
"Let them go at it. This will help Evangeline," Chasyn murmurs, walking around to his brother. I have a feeling it's to stop him in case he tries something against Maryka. Zedkiel's eyes narrow, but he says nothing, his eyes burning red.
I focus on Maryka, thinking… she went straight for the face."Are there any rules?" I ask.
"None," Zedkiel replies coldly.
I nod and look at Maryka, who has an expression on her face that I recognise pretty well, the look of someone who doesn't really like me but is pretending for others. It is disappointing, but I don’t let it show on my face. I need to focus on winning and doing my best. All I need to do is just bring her to her knees and keep her there.
She launches herself at me again, and this time I duck. Moving aside, I stumble back as she spins on the ball of her feet. She's lithe and fast, wasting no time in between attacks. I keep ducking, and she becomes increasingly frustrated.
"Fight!" she exclaims.
I will, when you're tired.