Rejected by Her Mate Claimed by Four Alphas novel Chapter 26

CHAPTER 23

Clara’s POV

Was this guy being serious right now? I was so exhausted that if the wind blew right now, it would

definitely knock me down.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” His face remained blank, but something in his eyes had changed. They looked

almost golden now, his wolf closer to the surface than he was letting on. “Again. Better this time.”

I ran it again. And again. And again. Each time pushing past what I thought were my limits, each time meeting only his cold assessment and demand for more.

There was no praise. No encouragement. Not even a sneer or taunt to fuel my anger. Just endless, demanding repetition and short corrections when I faltered.

“Back straighter.”

“Higher jump.”

“Faster transition.”

“Again.”

By the third hour, something strange was happening. Beyond the exhaustion, beyond the pain, my body was changing. Adapting.

Each shift came easier. Each transition smoother than the last. My wolf and I were finding a rhythm we’d never had before, a unity born of necessity and strain.

But still, he pushed.

“Sequence,” he called out, standing in the center of the field. “Human form. Attack pattern three.”

I had no idea what attack pattern three was. I’d never been taught any patterns. But before I could say this, he was demonstrating a series of strikes, blocks, and footwork that looked simple but wasn’t.

“Now you,” he said after showing it once. Just once.

I tried to copy what I’d seen, my movements clumsy compared to his smooth ones. He circled me, wooden blade tapping corrections into my stance.

“Again,” he said when I finished. “Partial shift this time.”

The pattern was harder with claws, my balance different, my strength unpredictable. I fumbled a turn,

nearly tripping over my own feet.

“Again,” he demanded. “Full wolf, then human on the final strike.”

This was impossible. The sequence was complex enough in one form. Changing mid–pattern while maintaining the correct movements? I might as well try to fly.

CHAPTER 23

But his eyes left no room for argument. His scent that filled my senses yesterday was different now. It smelled more controlled and restrained. It made everything worse, knowing he was holding himself in check while driving me to my breaking point.

Claim

I tried. I really did. I managed the beginning in wolf form, my four legs finding the rhythm of the movements. But the shift back to human during the final strike threw me off balance. I missed a beat, just one, and then fell to the ground.

Before I could rise, he was there, face inches from mine, eyes now glowing gold. The cold mask had cracked, showing something raw underneath.

“You move like a brat in heat,” he growled, voice rough with something that wasn’t just anger. “If you’re going to reek of it, at least earn the attention.”

The words stung worse than any of the wooden blade’s strikes. Heat flooded my face, partly from shame,

partly from fury. My wolf snarled beneath my skin, humiliated and angry in equal measure.

I pushed myself to my feet, every muscle hurting in protest. For a long moment, I just stood there, meeting

his golden stare with whatever strength I had left.

Then I threw the wooden sword to the ground

etween us.

“Why don’t you show me how it’s done, Alpha?” I challenged, the last word dripping with defiance.

The word hung between us,rily calm

as his golden eyes locked with mine.

and sharp. I expected him to snap back, to put me in my place. But

he didn’t even flinch. His face

“Drop your stance,” he ordered, his voice suddenly soft.

I hesitated, not sure what game he was playing now. My muscles tensed, preparing for another attack.

He moved behind me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath brushed against the back of my neck, sending involuntary shivers down my spine.

“Are you afraid of being touched without permission?” he whispered, his lips nearly grazing my ear. “Or afraid of what you’ll do if I do?”

My body stiffened. I wanted to spin around, to push him away, but I couldn’t make myself move.

“Arms up,” he instructed, circling me slowly like a predator sizing up its prey. “Feet wider. Back straight.”

He continued to move around me, adjusting my stance with words alone. Not once did he touch me. Not even the slightest brush of his fingers against my skin. And somehow, that was worse than if he had. “Weight on your back foot.” His eyes tracked every tiny adjustment I made. “Shoulders down. Head up.”

My body began to betray me. Heat crept through me, starting at my core and spreading outward until my skin felt feverish. I knew he could smell it, that traitorous scent of arousal I couldn’t control. My wolf whined inside me, confused and desperate for something I refused to name.

My mind flashed back to yesterday in his office–his body hard beneath mine, his fingers trailing fire across

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