The Alpha Mate

Chapter 81

The training field was humming with energy, fresh recruits circling up for sparring drills. The air smelled of sweat, dirt, and spring wind, and the midday sun shimmered above us as we shouted instructions, corrected stances, and called out rotations.

It felt good to be here. To belong here.

Levi and Kobe were helping pair up the trainees, while Ava stood by my side with her arms crossed, scanning the field like a battle-hardened general.

Then she stiffened. "Incoming storm."

I followed her gaze—and sure enough, there she was. Talia.

Full black leathers, braid wound tight, face set with that signature smirk of superiority. She walked like the field belonged to her, eyes cold and assessing. When she locked eyes with me, something glinted—sharp, hostile, hungry.

Here we go.

"Well, well," she said loud enough for everyone to hear. "Looks who finally crawled out from the bottom of his own shadows."

My fists clenched. Ava muttered something sharp under her breath.

"Here to help or just need attention again?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm here to educate." Talia's smile twisted cruelly. "Mind showing these rookies what real skill looks like? You and me."

Kobe immediately groaned under his breath. "Oh no."

"Talia," Levi said, stepping between us. "That's not necessary."

"I'm not asking for your permission, brother," she snapped without looking at him.

"She's just trying to provoke you," Kobe added, nudging me gently. "You don't have to prove anything."

Ava, however, leaned in, eyes glittering. "Kick her arrogant ass."

I grinned. Oh, I wanted to.

Talia smirked as I stepped forward into the circle. "Still so easy to bait."

"I'm just not hiding anymore," I said, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it to Ava. The spring air hit bare skin, cool against the tension building beneath my muscles.

Talia grinned, sharp as a blade. "You think acting tough makes you dangerous?"

"No," I replied, rolling my neck until it cracked. "But beating your ass in front of the whole pack might."

The circle widened as everyone cleared space.

The first strike came fast—Talia lunged with the speed of someone trained under pressure. I deflected, rolled, and spun away. Our bodies moved in a sharp, violent rhythm, fists cracking against ribs, boots scuffing dirt.

She was strong, compact and vicious, every strike aimed at the soft spots between muscle and bone. But I was stronger than I had ever been before.

We collided like fire and oil—fast, messy, furious.

Her nails caught my cheek, splitting skin in a hot line beneath my eye. My knuckles cracked against her jaw hard enough to snap her head sideways.

She punched, I ducked. I kneed, she twisted. Each hit fiercer than the last, and the circle of spectators had gone silent.

"You think just because Draven looks at you, you're something now?" she sneered between blows. "He'll never want a weak, broken little stray like you standing beside him."

I froze for a second—and that was enough. She slammed into me, claws raking across my ribs. Pain bloomed red-hot. But it wasn't comparable to the burn those words lit in my chest.

I shoved her off hard enough that she staggered, then launched myself at her.

We crashed down into the dirt, claws and fists and snarled curses. I got in a hit that bloodied her nose. She got one that split my lip, the copper taste flooding my mouth.

"You're not worthy of him," Talia hissed.

My blood roared. "Neither are you."

We fought like we were trying to kill each other. This wasn't sparring as if learning, this was personal. The air reeked of sweat, blood, and tension thick enough to choke on.

No one cheered or dared to move. Even the wind held its breath.

"Enough!" someone yelled.

We didn't stop. It wasn't enough—not until someone ripped me off her.

I thrashed in strong arms, spitting curses, blood in my mouth. "Let me go!"

"Atlas, stop— Fuck, stop it—"

It was Draven. His arms wrapped tight around my middle from behind, the solid wall of his chest pressing against my bare back as he hauled me off the ground. My legs kicked as my claws still burned.

Behind me, Talia was being pinned down by Levi and Kobe, face bruised, breathing ragged.

"That's enough, Atlas!" Draven growled against my ear, dragging me back from the edge.

I twisted fiercely in his hold, snarling, but he didn't flinch. His grip only tightened, the corded muscles of his forearms locking across my torso like iron bands.

One second I was seething—the next, his arm swept under my knees, the other bracing around my back as he lifted me straight off the ground.

"Hey—!" I hissed.

He carried me like I wasn't covered in bruises and fury, like I wasn't still ready to tear Talia apart. The heat of his body seared into my skin everywhere we touched—my back against his chest, his palm on my ribcage, his breath warm against my temple.

"Put me down!" I growled, squirming in his arms.

"No," he said flatly. "You're done."

I twisted in his grip, but his hold only tightened. "Draven—"

"I said stop," he murmured, not even looking at me. His jaw was clenched, eyes locked forward. "You don't need to prove anything. Not to her."

My breathing hitched as my pulse pounded. Hyde fought him just like I fought him. And then I just stopped—feeling how his scent started to surround me, seeping through the adrenaline like warm water through clenched fists.

Pine. Leather. Woodsmoke. Strength.

I hated how steady he felt. How his scent was already pulling the fight from my chest.

"Show's over," he called over his shoulder. "Back to training."

We arrived at the healer's tent minutes later, and Mia was already prepping bandages by the time Draven set me down on the cot.

"Careful," she muttered, examining the gash along my ribs. "That one's deep."

Draven crouched beside me, his dark eyes scanning my wounds like they personally offended him.

"I've never seen that kind of bloodlust in you before," he said, a faint smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth. "But I won't pretend I didn't like it."

I huffed a laugh. "She was asking for it."

"That she was," he murmured.

For a moment, his hand lingered on my knee—thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over the bruised skin. Then someone called for him outside, and he stood with a low groan.

"I'll check in later," he said to Mia. "Make sure he's not hiding any broken bones."

He gave me one last look—intense, almost tender beneath the hard surface—then he was gone.

Mia returned to cleaning the wound on my arm.

"She did a number on you," she said lightly. "Not bad for a show-off."

I winced. "Talia always has something to prove."

Mia glanced at me. "Well, she's probably just staking her claim before the Alpha announces his chosen mate at the Rebirth Feast."

My heart skipped as I blinked at her. "What?"

She shrugged, totally unfazed. "Only a few know yet. But it's going to happen. And some wolves want to make sure their name's still in the running."