Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Damon
She was slower today.
Not in technique; Elena moved with precision and surprising skill, but there was a slight lag between her reaction and recovery. A half–second delay in her counters. The tiniest hitch in her breath after each strike.
No one else on the training grounds would notice, but I did.
I noticed everything.
And the more I watched her move, the
irritated I became. Not with her, exactly, but with the gnawing sense that something was off.
She blocked a jab to the ribs and pivoted back, favoring her left leg again. Her arms lowered a fraction too long before rising into guard position. When advanced again, her parry came late. Not lazy, just slower.
My brows furrowed.
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“Again,” I commanded, stepping forward.
She gritted her teeth and lunged toward me, but I sidestepped easily, letting her momentum carry her past me. She caught herself mid–turn, breath ragged.
“You’re winded,” I said flatly.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, brushing damp hair from her face.
“You’re not,” I countered, tone sharp. “Focus.”
She squared her shoulders, eyes flashing. “Maybe I’m just having a bad day.”
That wasn’t it. I could see the strain behind her eyes, the tension across her shoulders and the tremble in her fingers when she thought I didn’t notice.
Elena was burning through her energy faster than she should. A wolf’s stamina wasn’t limitless, but it was deep; especially for someone with as much raw instinct and noble blood as her.
And yet, something in her body was fighting her. Holding her back.
The thought made my jaw clench.
“Your endurance is declining.”
She turned away from me, grabbing her water flask. “I said I’m fine.”
I didn’t like being brushed off. I hated it.
It was one thing when a soldier lied to avoid discipline. It was another when someone I was supposed to be evaluating – as a potential Luna no less – v hiding something this fundamental.
I stepped closer. “You’re not healing the same as the others.”
She stiffened. “Are you tracking my bruises now, Your Majesty?”
“I track everything,” I said simply.
Her shoulders tensed, but she didn’t turn around. I could see the curve of her spine rising and falling too fast.
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Chapter 24
I didn’t miss the fear flickering beneath the sarcasm. Not fear of me, but fear of being seen.
And I didn’t like that either. I opened my mouth to press further, but the sharp scent of ozone stopped me. A second later, the skies split open.
I blinked rain from my lashes as the cold drops pelted the training ring, turning dry dirt into slick mud within seconds. Most of the other candidates squealed and scattered, running toward the covered pavilion.
But Elena didn’t move.
She tilted her head back and blinked up at the sky, letting the rain soak through her shirt, plastering it to her skin and darkening the fabric. She closed her eyes for a moment, and her breathing slowed, like she welcomed it.
I didn’t understand her.
She wasn’t like the other noble–born girls in this competition. She didn’t flinch at harsh words. She didn’t preer or flirt. She didn’t ask for special treatment…if anything, she resented it.”
Most of the noble women I’d known were terrified of bruising their skin, let alone bleeding on the sparring field. But Elena bled and didn’t say a word. She limped and still showed up the next day.
She moved like someone who’d been fighting long before this competition began. But for what?
“For gods‘ sake, get out of the rain,” I said, walking toward her.
She opened her eyes and looked at me like I’d told her to stop breathing.
“It’s just water,” she said, voice soft but firm.
“You’ll get sick.”
“I don’t get sick.”
I raised a brow. “You don’t heal, either.”
That shut her up.
We stood there for a moment, rain hammering between us.
“Come inside,” I said again, lower this time. Not an order. A suggestion. A concern, though I didn’t say that part aloud.
She hesitated, then finally sighed and followed me under the nearest awning. She didn’t look at me. Just peeled off her soaked overshirt and wrung it out, her jaw tight.
I caught a glimpse of her shoulder–faint bruising, yellowing now, from yesterday’s fall. A mark that should’ve already faded.
I watched her shake out the shirt and fold it neatly. Then she pulled another from her satchel, worn but clean.
“You carry your own spares?” I asked, more curious than judgmental.
She gave a little shrug. “Nobody else is going to do it for me.”
I stared at her for a moment, letting the weight of those words settle. “Don’t your attendants take care of that?”
She laughed, a short humorless sound. “I don’t have attendants. I live next to the second–floor bathroom in a room the size of a closet.”
Something in me went cold. She wasn’t lying. Her tone was too casual. Like she’d simply accepted it and moved on long ago.
“Elena,” I said carefully, “you’re an Alpha’s daughter.”
Chapter 24
“I am well aware, Your Highness.”
I turned fully toward her. Her expression was neutral, but there was tension in her shoulders, in the way her hands clenched into fists before smoothing out the fabric they crushed,
I watched her pull on the dry shirt without flinching, though I could tell her shoulder still ached,
even
“Tell me something,” I said, my voice quieter than before. “Why are you staying in a broom closet while the other candidates are in full guest suites?”
She didn’t flinch, but I saw the moment her body went still. A pause. Calculated. Careful.
“There was a mix–up,” she said, shrugging like it didn’t matter. “They said the nicer rooms were already claimed when I arrived.”
I waited. “And you didn’t raise hell about that?”
She turned her head slightly, not meeting my gaze. “Would it have made a difference?”
Another smooth dodge. Polished. Detached. It grated on me more than it should have.
“So, instead of raising the issue to the housekeeper- or anyone – you just accepted it?”
“It’s just a room,” she said simply. “I’m here to compete. Not decorate.”
There was pride in her tone, Or defiance. Maybe both. But underneath it, I heard what she didn’t say: she didn’t expect to be treated fairly. And she was used to that.
I narrowed my eyes. “The Alpha’s daughter shouldn’t be sleeping next to a communal bathroom.”
She smiled faintly. “Maybe I’m not what you expected.”
She wasn’t. And that was exactly the problem. The woman in front of me was self–sufficient, guarded. She didn’t act like a pampered heir to a powerful bloodline, she acted like someone who’d survived something.
And the worst part was… I respected it.
The more I saw her fight through pain, deflect questions with steel, the harder it became to reconcile this version of her with the candidate file I’d read
I had more pieces of the Elena puzzle that didn’t fit.
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Chapter 25