” Jessica’s POV
“You don’t get to touch me.”
My voice snaps across the training yard before I can stop it.
The words taste sharp, like blood.
My hands shake, fists tight at my sides, sweat sliding down my spine even though the morning air is cold.
Charles turns slowly.
That alone makes my chest burn.
His eyes lock on mine, dark and heavy, like he already owns the ground I stand on.
He doesn’t move closer.
He doesn’t need to.
His presence presses in, thick and hot, making my skin prickle.
“This is training,” he says.
His voice is calm.
Too calm.
“You don’t get to refuse.”
I laugh, but it comes out wrong.
Thin.
Wild.
“Watch me.”
My wolf stirs, restless, aching.
Heat curls low in my belly, sharp and sudden, like a spark catching dry grass.
I suck in a breath and regret it.
His scent hits me—deep, iron-warm, Alpha.
My knees soften before I can stop them.
I hate that.
“Again,” Charles says, stepping forward.
I lift my hands, forcing my body to remember the moves Jude showed me last night.
Block.
Shift.
Strike.
Simple.
Clean.
I lunge.
Charles catches me with one hand.
Just like that.
His grip closes around my wrist, firm but not crushing.
The contact sends a jolt through me, straight to my core.
My breath stutters.
My heat flares hotter, faster, like my body has been waiting for this one mistake.
“Let go,” I hissed.
“No.”
He twists my arm, guiding, not hurting.
My back hits his chest.
Heat floods me.
My skin feels too tight, too alive.
My thighs press together without my permission.
He doesn’t touch anywhere else.
He doesn’t have to.
“That’s not a weakness.”
I shove back with all I have.
“Don’t talk to me like you know my body.”
A low sound rumbles in his chest.
Not a growl.
Something worse.
Controlled.
“You’re burning,” he says.
“And you’re pretending you’re not.”
I wrench free and stumble away, breath coming fast.
The world tilts.
The sun feels too bright.
My clothes cling to me, damp with sweat.
“I won’t submit,” I say.
“Not to you.
Not to anyone.”
Charles’s jaw tightens.
“This isn’t about submission.”
“Everything with you is about control,” I snapped.
He steps closer again, slow and sure.
“And everything with you is denial.”
My wolf surges, angry and needy at the same time.
Heat rolls through me in waves now, heavy and wet and dizzying.
I press a hand to my stomach like that might stop it.
It doesn’t.
“Jessica,” Jude’s voice cuts in from the edge of the yard.
“You need to stop.”
I shake my head.
“No.”
My legs tremble.
The ground feels too far away.
Too close.
Charles reaches for me again.
“Don’t,” I warn.
He does anyway.
This time his hand lands on my waist, fingers spreading like he belongs there.
My body reacts before my mind can catch up.
A sharp breath tears out of me.
My hips tilt without permission, seeking balance, seeking him.
“See?” he says softly.
“You’re not ready to stand alone.”
Rage flashes hot and fast.
“Get your hand off me.”
“Make me.”
I swing.
He blocks easily, pulling me in closer instead of pushing me away.
My front presses to his chest.
Every hard line of him feels like fire through cloth. Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping.com.
My heat spikes so fast my vision blurs.
I gasp.
My head spins.
“This is why you train,” he says, voice low now.
“So this doesn’t own you.”
His hand tightens at my waist.
Not rough.
Possessive.
My wolf howls.
“Stop,” I whisper, and I don’t know if I’m begging him or my body.
His breath brushes my temple.
“You’re shaking.”
“I hate you,” I say, but my voice breaks.
“I know.”
That’s what shatters me.
The yard tilts hard.
My strength drains like someone pulled a plug inside me.
My knees buckle.
Charles catches me before I hit the ground.
His arms wrap around me, solid and warm, holding me upright when I can’t hold myself.
My head falls against his shoulder.
I breathe him in without meaning to.
Heat crashes through me in a thick wave.
My body pulses, needy and weak and furious all at once.
“Don’t drop,” he murmurs.
“Stay with me.”
I cling to his shirt, fingers fisting in dark fabric.
I hate that I need this.
I hate that it feels right.
Jude is suddenly there.
“Her pulse is racing.”
“She pushed too hard,” Charles says.
“I told you this would happen.”
My vision dims at the edges.
My wolf whimpers, curled tight inside me, burning and afraid.
Charles shifts his hold, lifting me fully now.
My feet leave the ground.
The move sends another rush of heat through me, sharp enough to make me cry out.
“Easy,” he says, tightening his grip.
“I’ve got you.”
I want to scream at him to put me down.
I don’t.
My body sags into his, exhausted, aching, heat still rolling in slow, cruel waves.
As he carries me toward the palace doors, my last clear thought hits like ice.
This is only training.
And I already can’t survive it.
The world goes dark just as I feel his arms tighten like he’s afraid to let me go.