The practice sword caught me across the ribs before I could block, driving me to my knees in the mud.
“Get up, Prince.” The soldier’s voice dripped with contempt. “Or did you think this was going to be easy?”
I spat blood and dirt, pushing myself upright. Around the training circle, Astrid’s warriors watched with hungry eyes, waiting to see if the Southern royal would break.
“Maybe he needs a softer opponent,” another soldier called out. “Someone more his size.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd, but I caught sight of Astrid on the raised platform, her green eyes fixed on me with calculating intensity. This wasn’t random hazing—it was a test.
“I’m fine where I am,” I said, raising my sword again.
“Are you?” The brute across from me—Garrett, they called him—smiled with broken teeth. “Because you fight like a pampered noble who’s never seen real combat.”
“And you fight like an ox,” I shot back. “All strength, no skill.”
The insult hit its mark. His face darkened, and he came at me with everything he had. This time I was ready. I sidestepped his wild swing, brought my sword up, and drove the pommel into his jaw. He staggered, blood streaming from his mouth.
“Better,” Astrid’s voice carried across the yard. “But not good enough.”
She vaulted down from the platform, moving through the circle of soldiers like a queen among subjects. “Garrett’s the weakest fighter in my pack,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “If you can’t handle him, how do you expect to handle me?”
“Maybe I don’t,” I said, meeting her challenge head-on. “Maybe I expect you to handle yourself.”
The training yard fell silent. Several soldiers exchanged shocked glances—no one spoke to their commander like that.
Astrid’s smile was sharp as a blade. “Interesting theory. Care to test it?”
“Name the terms.”
“Single combat. Full contact.” She gestured to the weapons rack. “Winner takes all.”
“And what exactly is ‘all’?”
“Respect.” Her eyes blazed with challenge. “Win, and my soldiers treat you as an equal. Lose, and you leave Ironheart tonight.”
Murmurs rippled through the assembled warriors. This wasn’t just training anymore—it was a trial by combat with my entire future hanging in the balance.
“I accept.”
She selected a practice sword, testing its weight with casual expertise. “No mercy, Prince. I don’t give it, and I don’t expect it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
We circled each other while the soldiers formed a ring around us. She moved like liquid fire, every step controlled and predatory. When she struck, it was with surgical precision—a thrust toward my heart that I barely managed to deflect.
“Slower than I expected,” she said, pressing her advantage with a series of quick strikes that forced me backward.
“I’m just getting warmed up.”
I caught her next attack on my crossguard, twisted, and drove my shoulder into her chest. She stumbled but recovered instantly, her blade whistling past my ear.
“That’s more like it,” she said, breathing hard.
We clashed again, steel ringing against steel. She was faster, more experienced with these particular weapons. But I was stronger, and gradually I began to press my advantage.
“You fight like you’re angry,” I said, blocking her overhead strike.
“I am angry.” She spun away from my counterstrike, her red hair flying. “Angry at being stuck with a mate who thinks he can waltz in here and claim me.”
“I never said I wanted to claim you.”
“Didn’t you?” She lunged forward, and I caught her wrist, pulling her close until our faces were inches apart. “Then what do you call this?”
“Getting to know my partner.”
“Partner?” She twisted free, but didn’t step back. “I don’t have partners. I have subordinates and enemies.”
“Then which am I?”
“That remains to be seen.”
She kissed me.
Right there, in front of half her pack, she grabbed my face and crushed her lips to mine. The kiss was violent, desperate, tasting of blood and sweat and challenge. When she pulled back, her eyes were wild.
“What was that?” I demanded.
“A test.” She stepped away, but kept her sword raised. “Did you pass?”
Around us, the soldiers watched with fascination and barely concealed lust. This was their commander, their untouchable war goddess, showing vulnerability for the first time in their memory.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Did I?”
“We’ll find out tonight.” She lowered her weapon, but her gaze never left mine. “My chambers. After the moon rises.”
“And if I don’t come?”
“Then you’re not the mate I need.” She turned to address her soldiers. “Training’s over for today. Prince Kieran has proven himself worthy of basic respect.”
“Basic?” I called after her.
She paused at the edge of the training circle. “Anything more than that, you’ll have to earn privately.”
Her chamber door was already open when I arrived. Astrid stood by the window, silhouetted against the moonlight, her armor replaced by simple leather that did nothing to hide the lean muscle beneath.
“You came,” she said without turning around.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I thought you might be smart enough to run.” She faced me then, and I saw something vulnerable in her green eyes. “Most men are, when they realize what they’re getting into.”
“I’m not most men.”
“No,” she agreed, moving closer. “You’re the crown prince of the Southern Territories. Used to deference and soft beds and women who smile when you snap your fingers.”
“Is that what you think of me?”
“I think you’re here because of prophecy and politics, not because you actually want me.” Her voice carried an edge that could cut glass. “I think you’re going through the motions because you have to, not because you choose to.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Prove it.”
The challenge hung between us like a gauntlet thrown down. I could see the test in her eyes, the need to know if this was real or just another political arrangement.
Instead of answering with words, I closed the distance between us and kissed her. Not the desperate clash from the training yard, but something deeper, more deliberate. She tensed for a moment, then melted against me with a soft sound that made my wolf howl with triumph.
“Is that proof enough?” I asked against her lips.
“It’s a start.” Her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer. “But I’m going to need more than pretty kisses, Prince. I need to know you can handle the real me.”
“Show me.”
What followed wasn’t gentle. She bit and clawed and demanded everything I had to give. We crashed into furniture, knocked weapons from their mounts, turned her pristine chamber into a battlefield where the only casualties were our clothes and our careful control.
When we finally collapsed together on her furs, both breathing hard and covered in marks that would last for days, she traced a finger along a fresh scratch on my chest.
“You’re not what I expected,” she said.
“What did you expect?”
“Someone weaker. Someone who would break under pressure.” Her green eyes met mine. “Someone who would run when things got difficult.”
“And now?”
“Now I think you might actually be worth keeping.” She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand. “But this doesn’t change anything between us.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“I’m still going to test you. Challenge you. Make your life difficult whenever possible.” Her smile was sharp as a blade. “I don’t know how to be soft, Kieran. I don’t know how to be anything but what I am.”
“I’m not asking you to change.”
“Good. Because I won’t.” She leaned down, pressing a fierce kiss to my lips. “But I might learn to trust you. Eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“Prove you’re worth it first.” Her eyes held depths of challenge and possibility. “Prove you can stand beside me as an equal, not just another conquest.”
I pulled her down for another kiss, tasting the promise and the threat in equal measure.
“Challenge accepted.”
Her laugh was low and dangerous. “We’ll see about that, Prince.”