Rejected by Her Mate Claimed by Four Alphas novel Chapter 24

CHAPTER 22-1

Clara’s POV

I felt his eyes on me from somewhere above. That burning gaze that seemed to strip away layers of my defense without my permission.

I knew exactly where he was watching from. It was his office window, high up in the building where he looked down at me like some brooding predator.

I refused to give him the satisfaction of holding my stare for too long. Let him look. I turned back to Nora and the others, who were showing me around the training grounds.

“And this is where most of the pack does combat practice,” Eli explained, gesturing to a circular area padded with sand. “Betas run the regular drills, but sometimes Alpha Darius comes down to show the warriors how it’s really done.”

“Does he win every time?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Marcus laughed. “No one has beaten him in five years. Not even Beta Xander comes close.”

I nodded, filing away that information while pretending not to feel the weight of those amber eyes still on me.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Nora took me to the pack’s communal dinner, where I sat with my now–familiar group, listening to their stories and jokes.

Throughout it all, Alpha Darius was noticeably absent, but his presence lingered in the way pack members glanced at his empty chair, in the hushed conversations about tomorrow’s

training challenges.

By the time I retired to my room, my body thrummed with nervous energy. I knew tomorrow would be different. The easy camaraderie of today’s tour would give way to whatever Darius had planned, and based on the whispers I’d caught, it wouldn’t be gentle.

Sleep came fitfully, interrupted by dreams of golden eyes and the phantom sensation of hands on my skin.

I woke before dawn, my muscles already tense with anticipation. The sky outside my window was just beginning to lighten as I pulled on the training clothes that had been left for me- flexible pants, a fitted shirt, and sturdy boots. I braided my hair tightly back, remembering yesterday’s humiliation of having it fall in my face.

The grounds were eerily quiet as I made my way to the eastern field. The morning air held a chill that made me shiver, but I forced myself to stand tall, refusing to hug my arms around

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myself for warmth. I would not show weakness. Not today.

+25 Points

I was alone for nearly twenty minutes, going through basic stretches to warm my muscles. The sun had just adorned the horizon when I heard footsteps approaching.

Alpha Darius strode across the field, his face a mask of cold indifference. Gone was the teasing smirk from yesterday, the heated gaze that had tracked my every move. In its place was something harder, clinical. He was dressed for training too–all black, utilitarian, with none of the Alpha finery he sometimes wore.

Without greeting me, he tossed something my way. I caught it reflexively. It was a wooden

sword, heavier than it looked, its surface worn smooth from use.

“Today’s lesson isn’t archery,” he said, voice flat as he drew a similar wooden blade. “It’s

survival.”

He gave me no time to prepare. One moment he was standing six feet away, the next he was on me, his blade stopping just short of my throat. I hadn’t even seen him move.

“Dead,” he stated. “Again.”

I stepped back, raising the wooden sword uncertainly. “I don’t know how to-”

He struck again, this time sweeping my legs from under me. I hit the ground hard, air punching from my lungs.

“Dead,” he repeated, looking down at me without emotion. “Your enemy won’t wait for you to learn. Get up.”

I scrambled to my feet, anger beginning to simmer beneath my confusion. This wasn’t training. This was humiliation.

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