Rejected by Her Mate Claimed by Four Alphas novel Chapter 40

CHAPTER 37

Darius’s POV

My wolf snarled, bristling at the insult. “My warriors are the finest in the territory.”

“Were the finest,” Ronan corrected. “I’m not sure that’s still the case. When was the last time you put them through one of your legendary challenges? Those tests that made the Shadow Pack feared throughout the

region?”

I clenched my jaw. It had been months since I’d designed a true test for my elite squad. The daily drills continued, but the kind of challenge that broke lesser wolves and forged the strongest into something

more? That had fallen by the wayside.

“My elite squad is combat–ready at all times,” I growled.

“Hmm,” Lucien interjected, his tone deceptively casual. “It’s just that we’ve heard some concerning reports. Rogues camping within your borders for weeks before being detected. Strange tracks along your

eastern boundary that your scouts can’t identify.”

How the fuck did they know about the eastern border situation? Those reports had just come in today.

“My territory is secure,” I said, my voice tight with controlled anger.

“Of course it is,” Lucien replied smoothly. “No one’s questioning that.”

“Actually,” Ronan cut in, “I am questioning it. Your warriors were once the standard by which all others were measured, Darius. Now? They’re getting sloppy. Complacent. Losing their edge.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I snarled.

“Don’t I?” Ronan’s voice dripped with condescension. “Word travels, Darius. We’ve heard you’ve been

spending your training time with some stray female rather than honing your warriors. Getting soft in your old age?”

Clara. They were talking about Clara.

“My personal affairs are none of your concern,” I snapped.

“They are when they affect your pack’s readiness,” Ronan countered. “The Shadow Warlord I knew wouldn’t

let anything distract him from creating the deadliest fighters in the territory.”

My vision flashed red, rage surging through me like wildfire. “Watch your fucking mouth, Ronan.”

“At the treaty meeting,” Lucien said, rushing to smooth things over, “perhaps we should arrange a friendly competition. A test of skills between our elite warriors. Just to showcase our respective strengths.”

“Friendly?” Ronan scoffed. “There’s nothing friendly about proving who’s the strongest. But I’m game. My warriors against yours, Darius. Unless you’re afraid they’ll embarrass you.”

“My warriors fear nothing,” I growled. “Especially not your half–trained puppies.”

APTER ST

“Prove it then,” Ronan challenged. “The treaty meeting. A three–way challenge. Your warriors, mine, and Lucien’s. Let’s see who’s truly creating the strongest fighters in the territory.”

The accusation burned in my veins. Losing my edge. Distracted. Soft.

They thought they could question my training methods? They thought they could insinuate my warriors

weren’t the deadliest in the territory?

“Name your challenge,” I said, voice dropping to a dangerous register. “My fighters will destroy yours.”

“Bold claim from someone who hasn’t put his warriors through real training in months,” Ronan mocked. “Are you sure you haven’t lost your touch, Warlord? Or is that title just a relic of your glory days?”

Something snapped inside me. The phone creaked in my grip as my claws extended involuntarily.

“You’re walking a very thin line, Ronan,” I warned. “Don’t make me remind you what happened the last time someone questioned my ability to produce elite warriors.”

“Times change,” he replied, unfazed. “Alphas rise and fall. New training methods emerge. Maybe your once–feared techniques are outdated now. Maybe it’s time for new blood to lead the way in warrior

training.”

Was this just Alpha posturing, or something more? Between the unknown predators at my borders and this

sudden challenge to my warriors‘ abilities, I was starting to see a pattern I didn’t like.

“Our meeting is in a few weeks,” Lucien said, still playing peacemaker. “Maybe we can share some training

techniques while we’re there. Our methods have proven quite effective.”

“My warriors don’t need your training advice,” I cut him off, teeth clenched.

“Don’t they?” Ronan’s mocking voice grated on my last nerve. “From what I hear, your once–feared training

regimen has grown… stale. The great Shadow Warlord, resting on his laurels while his warriors grow soft.”

“We could demonstrate some new approaches at the meeting,” Lucien added, his tone carefully

diplomatic. “Show your squad some of the techniques we’ve developed. Might help tighten up your

security situation.”

That did it. The fucking audacity. They weren’t just questioning my training methods now–they were

offering to teach me how to train my own warriors like I was some clueless pup who’d never led a pack

before.

“My training methods are none of your concern,” I snarled.

“Just trying to help, old friend,” Ronan replied, smug satisfaction dripping from every word. “It’s hard to

stay current when you’re… distracted.”

“At the annual Alphas‘ meeting,” Lucien continued, “Ronan and I could run a demonstration. Show all the packs, including yours, how effective our new combat training has been. Give everyone a chance to learn.”

My vision blurred with rage. These fucking vultures, circling what they thought was weakness, looking for a

way to undermine my reputation in front of every Alpha in the region.

“The Shadow Pack doesn’t need lessons from anyone,” I growled. “My training methods have been feared

for a decade.”

“Have been is right,” Ronan said, not even trying to hide his mockery anymore. “But times change. New techniques emerge. I’m looking forward to showing everyone at the meeting how far behind your methods

have fallen.”

The implication that I was outdated, that my warriors were poorly trained compared to theirs–it was beyond insult. It was a direct challenge to my position as a leader among Alphas.

The rage boiled over. Without another word, I hurled the phone against the wall with such force that

pieces of plastic and metal exploded across the room. A deep, feral growl tore from my chest as I fought

to contain the wolf clawing at the surface, demanding blood for the insult.

Outdated? My warriors soft? Needing their fucking training advice?

I stalked across the room, barely registering the sound of my claws scraping gouges in the wooden floor. I needed to move, to act, to do something with this rage before it consumed me entirely.

Clara’s face flashed in my mind again. The way she’d fought during training. The resourcefulness she’d shown during the river challenge. The raw, untapped potential in every move she made.

She wasn’t ready for true combat yet–her skills were too raw, her technique unrefined. But there was

something in her that couldn’t be taught. Something that reminded me of myself before I became Alpha.

A plan began to form, wild and reckless and perfect.

I grabbed the landline phone from my bedside table, punching in the code for Beta Xander’s quarters.

“Alpha?” he answered on the first ring, alert despite the hour.

“My office. Now.”

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