Betrayed by an alpha claimed by a lycan king

After that encounter with Titus, I didn't waste another minute. I urged Scott right after to teach me how to fight.

I've done a lot of training while hiding from Titus back in the human world. But it seems like everything that I learned from those trainings was not enough for the battle waiting for us ahead. I need to keep up and become stronger, or else I'll be nothing but a burden to them. I'm done being the damsel in distress. I'm done putting up my fate in the hands of those people who want nothing to do with me. "Are you sure about this?" Scott asked one more time. "I'm not sure you're ready for a sparring."

"I already lost count on how many times have you asked me that question?" I replied.

"I'm just worried about you," he said.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

"I'll be fine, Scott. And stop worrying about me. Please, don't hold back," I said, casting him a reassuring look. "Besides, Elara might be fond of me now, but who knows how long that'll last?" You know how jealousy can get," I teased, shrugging lightly. Scott chuckled, a a mischievous s glint i in his eye. "Jealous? Elara?" He shook his head with a smile. "That's one thing I can tell you for sure-Elara will never be jealous of you, Sage." Haughed, giving

him a playful nudge. "What are you trying to say, then? That you don't find I me attractive?"

Scott's face flushed, and he stammered, "No, no! That's not what I meant at all. Of course, you're attractive-it's just-"

I waved off Scott's stammering with a grin, enjoying his flustered reaction more than I cared to admit. But just as he was about to recover his composure, a deep, unmistakable voice broke through.

"Are you going to

to fight, or are you going to flirt?" Titus's voice was cold, his tone laced with a hint of something unspoken. Scott and I turned simultaneously, facing him as he stood in the doorway, arms crossed, gaze fixed sharply on us. Titus's eyes were dark, shadowed with an intensity that made me wonder just how long he'd been standing there. The way his

gaze flicked between Scott and me held a weight that felt almost tangible. A tension filled the air as he took a step closer, his presence filling the small room.

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms in return. "Didn't realize we needed permission to enjoy a laugh?" I replied, my voice steady, though my heart raced.

Scott's face was a mixture of nerves and amusement, but he quickly cleared his throat, straightening up. "Yes, we were just about to start our training, Alpha," he confirmed, casting a quick look in my direction that almost begged me not to make things worse.

But Titus didn't dn't seem convinced, his expression hardening as he studied the space between us. Finally, he spoke, his voice lower and measured. "I don't care what it was. Just remember why we're here. This mission isn't a game." His gaze lingered on me a moment longer, as though trying to read something beneath the surface. As Scott

t said, we were just about to start our t

training if you didn't interrupt us."

His jaw clenched as his knuckles turned white while glaring at me. "Then, go ahead," he then said.

I frowned while trying to think where he was getting into this. "Don't you have anywhere else to go? Something more important than being here?" I asked, eager to make him leave. I'm not comfortable moving with him around.

"I decided to stay. I'll have to make sure that you do your training properly. Go on, start." 15:27 Fri, Nov 1. Bu

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Chanted my lips, trying to stop myself fom saying another word. I blew a loud, annoying sigh before Irolled my eyes. "Well then, enjoy the show," I said, my voice laced with sarcasm.

As Scott prepared for our sparing, he exhaled, shaking his head with a nervous laugh. "You really know how to get under his skin, don't you?"

Just a a natural talent, I guess," I said with a laugh, but I couldn't ignore the way Titus had looked at me. There was something intense and almost secretive in his stare. It left a strange feeling in me, both curious and uneasy. Scott's voice snapped me back to reality as he held out a small silver dagger, its blade catching the light. "Here, take this," he said, his tone serious. "We're up against a lot of werewolves, so the first thing you need to learn is how to kill them if necessary." His words were blunt, and the weight of the situation settled over me.

We moved to to the center of of the training room, where a mat covered the floor and weapons lined the walls. Scott had me grip the dagger tightly, guiding me into a stance. "In a way, you already have an advantage. You might not be able to shift to your wolf form, but that actually works better for you. It means you can handle a weapon like this." "Do we really have to use silver?" I asked, glancing at the sharp blade. "I mean, this is just practice, right?"

Scott shook his head. "Iron and silver feel different in your hand-the weight, the balance, even the way it moves. You need to get used to the real thing," he said. "And don't worry, I'll be careful." Still, I could see a bit of worry in his eyes, and I felt a little nervous too. The last thing I wanted was to accidentally hurt him. But Scott only gave me a reassuring nod, his calmness helping me relax. "Let's start with defense," he instructed, stepping a few paces away from me. He raised his own practice blade-a dulled iron one-and nodded, signaling me to get ready. "Precision matters more than strength. Look for weak spots and use your opponent's movement against them.

I copied his stance, feeling the coolness of the dagger in my hand as I adjusted my grip, focusing on Scott's movements. He approached me slowly, showing me how to block and counter with quick, precise moves. At first, I hesitated, afraid of making a mistake, but soon, I found a rhythm, my confidence growing with each step. With every block and parry, calmness settled over me. Channeling my focus this way helped me release the frustrations I'd held onto since that morning. I could see Scott noticed too, the approving look in his eyes clear. "You're doing great," he said, breathing a bit harder as he stepped back. "You've got the instincts. Now, it's all about practice." He gave me a quick smile, and I felt a warm rush of pride.

I looked down at the silver dagger, the weight now familiar in my hand, and gave Scott a small smile in return. "Guess I'm a fast learner."

Just as a sa spark of confidence began to settle in, Titus's voice cut through, cool and taunting. "You're going too easy on her, Scott. Worried about a little scratch?" he remarked, stepping into the training area with that ever-present, piercing look. "She's doing just fine," Scott defend

Titus, however, wasn't about to let it go. He walked over to us, his gaze lingering on the dagger in my hand, before meeting my eyes with a glint of challenge. "Fine isn't going to cut it, Scott, In real combat, she's going to need more than basic moves to survive. I think she needs a little more motivation," he said, an edge of something more intense slipping into his voice. Before I could respond, he reached for his own blade, a slightly sharper iron dagger aneant for seasoned fighters.

"Scott's training is thorough," I said, trying to sound unbothered, even as my pulse quickened. "I don't need special treatment from you." I tried to steady my voice, and I sensed Titus's challerige hanging between us.

Titus smirked, ignoring my protest as he rolled his shoulders, readying himself. "Then prove it," he said simply, lowering his stance. "Let's see where that training got you into."

I tightened my grip on the silver dagger, feeling its cool, solid weight in my hand. Scott gave me an encouraging nod, and I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to stay calm as I stepped into position across from Titus. He watched me with a fierce focus,

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II could practically feel the energy crackling between us. The playful ease I'd felt with Scott evaporated, replaced by a heightened awareness of every move, every step.

Titus's eyes narrowed as he moved, circling me with the calculating patience of a predator closing in on prey. I could feel the intensity radiating from him-he wasn't just testing my skills; he was pushing, waiting for any sign of weakness. His every step was deliberate, drawing me in, and the moment I took a step back, his gaze sharpened, almost like he'd caught a scent of fear.

He lunged forward, a feint that came so fast I barely saw it, but I managed to throw up a block. I felt a surge of relief when the move held up under Titus's attack. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered with approval, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. Titus was unyielding, his expression hardening, and I realized he wasn't just testing me. He was here to make a point, to drive home just how real and ruthless things could get.

Every instinct told me to back off, but I forced myself to stay put. I blocked his next strike, barely managing to push it aside, and swung my blade back at him. He was faster, though, and his counter was so quick I almost couldn't react in time. He didn't give me a break; he just kept pushing, forcing me to keep up. "Use every advantage," he ordered coldly. "Hesitate, and you'll lose."

C

I tightened my grip, meeting his gaze with determination. When he swung again, I ducked and aimed for his side, bu sidestepped with ease, then slashed downward. I barely managed to pull back in time, feeling the brush of his blade close enough to know he wouldn't hesitate to leave his mark if it meant teaching me a lesson. His expression was sharp, eyes hard and relentless, as if daring me to keep pushing myself without fear. Frustration bubbled I up insi inside me. It felt like he was dragging this out on purpose, maybe even as a twisted way of getting back at me. Every time I adjusted or attacked, he was already two steps ahead, countering each move with irritating ease. My temper flared, and I launched at him, losing my usual caution and swinging harder. As expected, he dodged every strike, waiting for an opening until he quickly seized my arm, twisting it behind my back with a firm hold, his dagger pressing against my throat in a firm reminder of his skill. "It seems you've been spending more time flirting with my beta than training," he whispered near my ear, his warm breath skimming against my skin, sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. Then, to my surprise, he leaned in, burying his face against the hollow of my neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell lovely," he murmured, voice low and dangerously soft. "I wouldn't be surprised if my beta is a little smitten by you."

"Fortunately for me, your beta isn't a pervert," I shot back, gathering my strength to break free. With a sudden twist and a burst of force, I yanked myself out of his grip, putting space between us and clutching my dagger with renewed determination. His gaze remained locked on me as if I'd committed some unforgivable offense just by daring to challenge him. It was infuriating, but it only fueled my determination. I launched myself at him, adrenaline coursing through my veins, ready to strike. But he was quick, sidestepping my attack with a grace that seemed almost effortless. Every time I lunged, he was already anticipating my movements, his dagger flashing through the air with precision. Each dodge came with a slice that grazed my skin, sharp enough to draw blood. I could feel the stinging pain as his blade met my arms.

I

"Keep your guard up!" he barked, his voice cutting through the haze of frustration and determination swirling in my mind. The adrenaline made me reckless; I couldn't let his relentless focus rattle me. But with every shice, my resolve faltered slightly. I tried to shake off the pain and stay focused, reminding myself that each cut was just a part of my training. Yet the heat of his glare, mixed with the sting of the wounds, ignited a fire within me. I charged again, this time feigning to the left before pivoting to the right, hoping to catch him off guard. But he was ready.

With a swift, fluid movement, he sidestepped once more, leaving a sharp line of pain along my forearm. I winced but pressed on, refusing to give in. Each drop of blood was a clear reminder of what's waiting ahead of me once this war started. My body was so heavily wounded that despite my ability to heal faster, I'm still losing a lot of blood. My eyes get blurry; my attack was nothing but an empty threat. I'm waving my arms without a clear target. Even with that condition, I can still see the blow that's coming at me. 15:27 Fri, Nov 1. Bu B Chapter 92

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Titus

me.

s raised his hand, ready to bring the blade down on me again, but I felt too weak to defend myself. I closed my eyes, bracing for the pain of the blow. Just then, I heard a loud voice and felt the presence of a strong figure stepping in front of "That's enough, Alpha!" Scott shouted, spreading his arms wide to shield me from Titus.

"Get out of the way, Scott!" Titus barked, his voice filled with anger.

"You'll kill her if you keep going!" Scott insisted, standing firm between us, determined to protect me.

I can hear Titus' heavy breathing as he was glaring at Scott. But Scott remained firm as he stood his ground before his Alpha. A few minutes had passed, and Titus started to calm down.

"Get her out of here, Scott," Titus commanded, his voice sharp and firm.

Scott immediately bowed his head in respect to Alpha Titus before rushing to my side to help me get off the gro. d. I felt weak, but his strong grip was reassuring as he pulled me up. As I stood, I stole a quick glance at Titus, who still held the dagger tightly in his hand. When our eyes met, I noticed something unexpected in his gaze-regret. It was fleeting, but it was there, buried beneath the anger.