Rejected by Her Mate Claimed by Four Alphas novel Chapter 194

CHAPTER 178

Clara’s POV

“Why don’t you show me both approaches working together?” I suggested “See how your different styles could complement each other.”

Both men looked intrigued by the challenge, but I could see the competitive fire still burning in their eyes.

Lucien’s jaw tightened slightly while Killian’s fingers drummed against his thigh. This wasn’t going to be as simple as I’d hoped.

“Interesting proposition,” Lucien said, his dark eyes moving between me and Killian. “Though I’m not sure

how well precision blends with brute force.”

Killian’s smile was sharp, his green eyes flashing. “Brute force? That’s rich coming from someone whose warriors dance around like they’re putting on a show.”

I stepped between them before the verbal sparring could escalate, holding up both hands. “This is exactly

the problem. You’re both so focused on proving who’s better that you’re missing the bigger picture.”

“Which is?” Lucien asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That Jaden won’t care how pretty your fighting looks or how innovative your tactics are if you can’t work

as a unified force,” I said bluntly. “He’ll pick you apart piece by piece while you’re arguing about whose

approach is superior.”

Lucien’s expression grew thoughtful while Killian’s smile faded. The truth of my words seemed to sink in,

though neither man looked happy about it.

“Fine,” Killian said, running a hand through his dark hair. “How do you want to do this?”

I looked out at the training grounds where both teams were still arranged in their separate formations.

Lucien’s Red Moon warriors stood with the fluid grace of dancers, weapons held like extensions of their

bodies. Killian’s tactical specialists maintained rigid formations, their gear gleaming in the afternoon sun, every piece of equipment positioned with mathematical precision.

(

The two groups eyed each other with obvious suspicion, like predators sizing up potential rivals.

“Start simple. Pick twenty warriors from each side. Have them run a basic assault scenario together.”

What followed was a complete disaster.

Lucien’s Red Moon warriors moved with their signature fluid grace, flowing like water around obstacles.

But every time they tried to coordinate with Killian’s tactical specialists, the timing fell apart spectacularly I watched a Red Moon fighter leap into an elegant spinning attack only to collide mid–air with a tactical specialist who was executing a precisely calculated strike at the exact same target.

Killian’s team would set up for a coordinated assault, weapons trained and ready, only to find Lucien’s

warriors had already flowed past the target like smoke. Lucien’s fighters would begin an elegant flanking

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maneuver, imoving in perfect synchronization with each other, only to crash directly into Killian’s soldiers who were executing a completely different strategy.

Shouts of frustration echoed across the field. A Red Moon warrior cursed as a tactical specialist’s equipment caught his flowing robes. A specialist stumbled when a Red Moon fighter’s spinning blade

came within inches of his head.

After ten minutes of watching them stumble over each other like amateur fighters at their first training

session, I called a halt.

“Again,” I said, my frustration bleeding into my voice.

The second attempt was marginally better. At least nobody almost got decapitated. But they still moved like two different armies that happened to be sharing the same battlefield.

The third was worse than the first. This time, a Red Moon warrior’s graceful dodge sent him directly into the path of a tactical specialist’s precisely thrown blade. The blade buried itself in a practice dummy three

inches from the warrior’s head.

Both men froze, staring at each other in shock.

“Enough!” I shouted.

By the end of the day, I was ready to bang their heads together. Warriors sat on the ground nursing bruises

and wounded pride. The practice field looked like a tornado had torn through it.

“This isn’t working,” I announced to the gathered warriors, my voice carrying across the sudden silence. “You’re fighting each other more than you’re fighting the enemy.”

“The problem,” Lucien said, his usual calm showing visible cracks as he gestured toward Killian’s team, “is that his people don’t understand the concept of fluid adaptation. They move like robots following

programming.”

“The problem,” Killian shot back, his green eyes blazing as he pointed at Lucien’s warriors, “is that your

people think warfare is an art form instead of a science. There’s no strategy, just pretty movements that

get people killed.”

(*

I held up a hand before they could continue their argument. Several warriors from both sides had started

to stand, hands moving toward weapons.

“The problem is that you’re both too stubborn to admit you might need to compromise.”

That evening, I found myself pacing in the strategy room like a caged wolf. My boots clicked against the stone floor in a steady rhythm that matched my racing thoughts Every few steps, I’d stop and stare out the window at the training grounds where scattered equipment reminded me of the day’s failures.

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