The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 306

Chapter 306: She Fights Like A Rogue

Fin stood on the stone ledge overlooking the yard, his shoulder strapped tight against his torso in a sling. It’d need until the end of the day to heal.

A training sword rested in her right hand, angled toward the ground, and the way she held it told Fin everything he needed to know before the assessment even started.

She gripped the handle too high. Her elbow was locked when it should have been loose. The blade’s weight sat in her wrist instead of her forearm, a mistake that would cost her within the first three exchanges against anyone who knew what they were doing.

A soldier stepped forward. Broad-shouldered, confident, the easy posture of a man who had done this a thousand times and assumed this would be a thousand and one. He was taller than Serena by a full head, his training blade resting against his shoulder, and when he stopped in front of her, he gave a short bow that was respectful without being deferential.

"Your Grace." His voice carried across the yard, steady and professional. "Commander Thane. I’ll be running the assessment. Have you killed by blade before?"

Serena swallowed. "No."

Thane’s expression held. "How much training with one?"

"A few months," she answered honestly. "With sparring sticks."

She left out the fact that she fought rogues before being captured. That wasn’t training technically. That was survival. It was instinct wrapped in desperation and held together by sheer audacity.

Fin’s expression pained for a fraction of a second before he locked it down. Through their matebond, Serena felt the flicker of something hot and complicated, grief tangled with protectiveness tangled with the cold fury of a man who understood exactly what "a few months with sparring sticks" meant when the ancestors had told her to prepare to strike blood by sword.

She immediately shoved calm back through their matebond to him.

"We’ll start assessment on beginner level. One opponent." Fin crossed his arms. "She’s still healing. No contact."

"Yes, Alpha."

Fin wasn’t lying. Serena was bruised. The stab wounds were bandaged. Under any other circumstances, she would not be training right now.

But she had eight days and the weight of Skardos on her shoulders.

Thane turned back to Serena. He shifted his training blade to a two-handed grip and stepped into the center of the ring, his stance widening into something relaxed, open, intentionally unthreatening.

Beginner assessment. He would test her reactions, her footwork, her instinct under pressure, and he would do it without humiliating her in front of every Shadowclaw warrior watching from the perimeter.

"When you’re ready, Your Grace." He raised his blade to guard position. "First contact on my count."

Serena lifted her sword. The weight of it settled into her wrist exactly where Fin had known it would, and the slight adjustment she made, shifting her grip a half-inch lower, told him she was aware of the problem even if she lacked the muscle memory to fix it permanently.

Sitting off to the side, Dexmon Drakenfell watched with his jaw tight. His eyes moved from Serena to Thane. The assessment was necessary. He knew that. The ancestors had been explicit. Hesitation with a blade would kill her, and the only way to burn hesitation out was repetition under pressure.

Aegon: She needs a better grip. Her wrist will give out.

Dex: I know.

Aegon: Go down there and fix it.

Dex: I can barely lift my arms.

Aegon: Irrelevant. Go.

Dex: Not my army. She trains with me tomorrow.

He hated it anyway.

"Three," Thane called.

Serena exhaled.

"Two."

Her grip tightened.

"One."

Thane moved.

Serena moved first.

She closed the distance faster than the soldier expected, her footwork quick and light, the kind of speed that came from months of running drills with Drakenfell’s forces. Her first strike aimed for his midsection, angled low.

Thane blocked it without effort. The impact rattled up her arms and she felt the weight difference immediately, his blade absorbing hers the way a wall absorbs a fist.

He countered with a slow, telegraphed swing toward her left shoulder. She ducked under it, pivoted, and came back with a lateral cut that had decent instinct behind it and zero technical foundation.

Fin’s eyes narrowed. He saw exactly what the ancestors had described. Creativity filling the trenches where skill should have been standing.

Thane pressed forward. Two strikes, measured and controlled, each one designed to test whether she could parry under pressure. She caught the first on her blade, barely, the angle wrong enough that her wrist buckled. The second one she dodged entirely, stepping back and out of range.

"She’s avoiding the parry," Thane called to Fin, as if Serena weren’t there and they weren’t fighting.

"I see it," Fin replied. His voice was level. His knuckles were white on his forearms.

Serena: Aurelia, is there any chance you can block the matebond for twenty minutes?

Aurelia: I don’t think so.

Serena: Can you muffle it?

Aurelia: No.

Serena: Can you at least stop transmitting every time I get hit?

Aurelia: Hit him back.

Serena: I AM TRYING.

Aurelia: Try harder. Mates are frustrated watching us.

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