Alpha of Hell

chapter 15: Fire and Ice: The Ruthless Training

As we reached the palace gates, I spotted Knight standing there, talking to Klaus.

Klaus stood attentively, all his focus concentrated on what the Alpha was saying. I smiled and waved at him with a cheerful hand.

"Hello, Klaus!"

I said, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere surrounding him.

Klaus returned the greeting,

"Hello, Luna,"

while still standing respectfully before Knight. He seemed a bit confused, which was natural given Knight's imposing personality, but something else was happening.

I noticed that Knight was not happy with our encounter. His gaze toward Klaus was like bullets, and signs of anger were clearly visible on his features.

He said nothing, but his body language said everything.

I chuckled faintly because the situation was funny and strange.

"What is his problem with me and Klaus?"

I whispered to myself. Was he jealous? Or was there something else happening that I didn't understand?

Knight's looks were enough to make me realize there was something between him and Klaus, and that my presence was the spark that ignited this flame of rage.

I ignored his glares, offered a wide smile, and headed toward the palace, but my mind was busy with this new mystery that had appeared in my life.

I was heading toward my room. I closed the door behind me, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me.

I took off my outdoor clothes and put on comfortable sportswear that gave me freedom of movement.

Then I pulled my long hair up into a bun so it wouldn't hinder me during training.

"Alright, I'm done,"

I said to myself out loud, as if talking to someone else.

"Where is he?"

I left the room and walked through the wide corridors, searching for him.

He wasn't where I had left him, so I asked a passing maid,

"Where is Knight?"

"He is in the office, Luna,"

she answered calmly, pointing in the right direction.

I nodded and headed there. I pushed the door slowly and stepped inside.

I saw him buried under a pile of papers and files. He was completely focused on his work and didn't notice my presence.

I walked toward his desk. I didn't want to disturb him, but I also didn't want to waste time.

So, I made my decision and went straight to the chair opposite him and sat down.

He looked up and finally raised his head. His face was tired, but he showed no signs of annoyance.

"Hello,"

I said quietly, trying to show as much confidence as possible.

He answered coldly, "Hello."

Then he put his pen down and stared at me. His gaze increased my tension, but I tried to remain calm.

"I am ready for training, if you have finished your work, of course,"

I said calmly, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of him.

He sighed and stood up from the chair. His stance suggested he wasn't happy that I had interrupted him, but he said nothing.

He headed toward the door, and before leaving, he said:

"I'll see you at the training grounds."

Then he left me and walked out of the office. He left me alone, surrounded by papers and files, with a feeling of tension and frustration.

"What is wrong with that Iceman?"

I asked myself, realizing that dealing with him would be extremely difficult.

Suddenly I stopped in the middle of the corridor, realizing I didn't know where to go.

"Where are the training grounds? Damn you, Knight!"

I said in a faint voice, blaming him internally. I was about to look for anyone who could show me the way.

I headed to the kitchen and saw the maids busy preparing food. A delicious scent filled the place.

The head housekeeper, a woman who looked to be in her fifties, stepped forward with a warm smile.

"How can I help you, Luna?"

she asked in her calm voice.

"Where are the training grounds?"

I answered with a smile, trying to sound friendly.

She smiled at me and said,

"They are behind the palace. Head to the back door, and you will get there faster."

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "And please, call me Cira. I don't like titles."

She looked at me with some surprise but gave a wide smile.

"Alright, Cira. I wish you a good training session."

Then I left, feeling at ease. That kind interaction was enough to wipe away some of the tension Knight had caused me.

I headed toward the back door and opened it. The training grounds were vast and filled with sports equipment.

Knight was waiting for me there, with a cold look on his face.

"Let's go,"

he said coldly as I prepared for training. This was the moment I realized the training wouldn't be easy and that Knight wouldn't be kind.

I stepped forward to stand in front of him.

He was staring at me, but his gaze wasn't really directed at me; it was piercing through me.

When he spoke, his words came with a coldness that matched his looks, as if they were mere routine instructions.

"We will train on extracting your power and controlling it."

"And how is that? I don't even know what it is! Are you joking with me?"

The words came out as a muffled whisper, but he didn't reply. He kept staring into space as if he hadn't heard me, completely ignoring me.

"I will extract it in my own way."

Damn, this doesn't bode well at all.

He stood before me in a fighting stance while I was still trying to process what he had said.

"Come on, attack me,"

he said in a calm voice, but it was enough to make me expect the worst.

"What?"

I said, but he didn't wait for me to finish.

He threw a punch at me—it was fast and powerful, but I managed to dodge it with difficulty.

He didn't let me recover, following up with a kick to my leg that almost knocked me down.

I leaned on my palms and swung my legs up to turn my fall into a crushing attack, aiming for his face, but he dodged it at the last moment.

I looked at him; he still maintained his coldness, but this time there was a hint of interest in his eyes.

"Not bad,"

he said quietly, as if praising my performance.

I felt relief, but I didn't show it. I still had much to prove to him.

I stood before him, stepping cautiously, unleashing a barrage of fast punches, but he dodged them brilliantly.

His defense was solid, and I found no opening I could exploit.

"Damn it!"

I said to myself, "What was I expecting from the King of Darkness?"

I retreated, pretending I was going to withdraw, playing with his mind to make him lower his guard.

It wasn't easy, but it was the only way I could find a gap.

Indeed, he responded to the plan and tried to attack.

He was about to land a powerful punch, but I smiled. In a split second, I spun around and landed a powerful kick right on his handsome face.

He stumbled back several steps, and I stood there smiling. The smile wasn't from joy, but from relief.

Why do I feel relief when I punch him?

He looked at me and wiped blood from his mouth.

His eyes shimmered with a look I didn't understand. Then he smiled a wicked smile, as if saying:

"Now the fun begins."

I felt fear creeping into my heart; I knew this training was far from over. In fact, it had only just begun.

When he moved, it wasn't just a step; it was a lightning-fast flash of movement.

For a moment, he seemed to evaporate into thin air, as if I were alone in the training grounds, before I felt his powerful punch in my stomach.

The pain was sharp and sudden, as if it were tearing my insides apart.

It wasn't an ordinary hit; it was a violent strike, showing no leniency, as if I weren't his mate.

"Damn, he's showing no mercy,"

I said to myself, bracing against the pain. This punch was a reminder that I wasn't on a stroll, but in serious training.

While I was trying to regain my balance, he continued the attack.

It wasn't random; it was a barrage of punches exactly like I had done to him. He was mimicking my attack, as if wanting to remind me of it.

I dodged them with great difficulty, my eyes wide open, never leaving his movements.

His speed was incredible, his strength unbelievable. Every punch was faster than the last, and every move was more complex.

I felt my heart thumping hard and my mind focusing on every movement. I no longer thought of the pain, only the defense.

Survival instinct was controlling me now as I tried to dodge the punches and stay on my feet.

I retreated slightly, trying to kick him.

That kick wasn't just an attack; it was bait I had thrown for him.

I had to be careful not to smile or show any sign of what my mind was planning.

When he caught my leg, pulling me toward him with force, I felt a sense of victory internally, but I maintained my external composure.

I placed my hands around his neck and pulled close, pressing my body against his, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He stared at me in distraction, as if his mind couldn't process what was happening. I laughed internally, feeling a sense of pleasure wash over me.

With lightning speed, I threw my upper body backward, using my full weight to slam him to the ground.

He didn't expect it and fell to the floor while I stood up quickly, staring down at him.

He was lying on the ground with signs of shock on his face. He hadn't expected me to be able to drop him—he who had been dealing with me with such harshness and coldness.

That moment was the moment of victory, the moment of proving that I am not as weak as he thinks.

He laughed mockingly and stood on his feet with a side smirk. That smile triggered my anger.

"What are you mocking?"

I said angrily, preparing for a new confrontation. This wasn't just training; it was a struggle, a struggle for self-assertion.

I looked at him, and his provocative side smirk was fueling my rage. He saw the challenge and determination in my eyes, and that sparked something in him I didn't understand.

"You are a deceiver, a great deceiver,"

he said coldly, as if praising me, but in reality, he was throwing harsh words at me.

"Just like you,"

I replied quickly, with the same coldness, as if I weren't afraid of him.

I didn't want to show him that his words affected me; on the contrary, I wanted to show him that I am strong and that I am not easy to reach.

He stared at me in a strange way, his icy eyes shimmering with a glint I didn't understand.

Suddenly, I felt a dark energy surrounding him, like a black cloud enveloping his body.

This energy stirred a feeling of fear in me, but I didn't show it.

"What is he going to do?"

I wondered to myself, preparing for a confrontation.

He launched his words like poisoned arrows, touching every point of weakness in me:

"But you are weak. You are weak compared to me. You are nothing."

The words crept into my mind, echoing in every corner.

"I am not weak, you i***t!"

I screamed in his face, a massive rage igniting in my chest. I could no longer stand this disregard and coldness.

His words stirred an anger in me I never knew existed.

He kept repeating his words, as if wanting to break my will.

With every word, his black aura grew denser and stronger, pressing down on me as if trying to suffocate me.

I felt the pressure increasing and my breath almost stopping, but I did not surrender.

"You bastard!"

I screamed and rushed toward him, my eyes flashing sparks. I wanted to attack him, to stop him, to prove to him that I am not weak.

But he created a shield of black smoke, preventing me from reaching him. The shield was impenetrable and strong, as if protecting him from everything.

"Damn you! Damn you!"

I screamed, trying to break through it, but he was stronger than me.

He kept laughing and mocking me.

His laughter fueled my anger more and increased my sense of frustration.

"Nothing,"

he said in a calm voice, but it was enough to make me feel humiliated.

His final words were biting, but they weren't a surprise.

The shock wasn't from the insult; it was a spark that ignited the repressed rage within me.

"You are nothing. You are an insect."

He spoke it with his cold voice, but this time, there was no barrier to block its impact.

The anger suddenly turned into energy, into a real flame running through my veins like burning electricity.

My body was no longer mine; it became a vessel for this destructive energy.

I could no longer hear anything except the noise inside my head.

A thunderous scream erupted from my depths—a scream that was no longer human, but the roar of an unleashed beast.

I wasn't thinking; my feelings were completely in control, and I wanted nothing but to kill.

And in the middle of that vortex of fire that surrounded me, a voice broke out that wasn't mine—a wild voice full of rage.

"You're dead... I'm going to kill you!"

The words were coming out of me, but they weren't from my conscious decision.

Knight was staring at me with signs of astonishment; he seemed unable to believe what he was seeing.

His face reflected shock, as if he had never expected me to have this power.

While the fire swirled around me, I absorbed the black smoke he had created to protect himself and burned it completely.

The power was raging, and I couldn't control it. It was coming out of me involuntarily, as if it wanted to destroy everything.

I threw a massive ball of fire, and Knight dodged it with great difficulty.

The ball exploded in the middle of the grounds, destroying half of it completely.

The power of the blast was immense, and I saw that Knight barely managed to survive.

He looked at me as if saying something, but I didn't hear him. I heard nothing but the roar of the fire in my ears.

The urge to kill was controlling me, and my power was increasing every moment.

I threw another ball at him, much larger than the previous one.

It was about to hit him if he hadn't dodged at the last moment. My body was moving on its own, as if an internal force was controlling it.

I was no longer Cira; I had become a beast, a beast craving destruction.

I screamed again,

"You must die! You must die!"

But the voice wasn't mine; it was the echo of a demon residing within me.

The power was increasing in a strange way, and I could no longer control it.

I began to feel as if it were carving into my flesh, feeding on the pain I felt.

I screamed in pain as blood flowed from my nose and mouth.

The pain was sharp, as if I were burning inside and out.

"Damn, I'm going to destroy myself,"

I said to myself, realizing I had completely lost control.

I saw Knight saying something, but I couldn't hear him.

He was trying to advance toward me, but the fire was preventing him. Whenever he tried to get close, the fire flared up even more, as if warning him.

I saw signs of terror on his features. He was no longer that cold Alpha I knew. He was afraid—not of me, but for me.

While I was screaming and breathing like a madwoman, I fell to my knees, leaning on the ground with my hands.

The power was increasing, the pain was increasing, and I realized I was on the brink of exploding.

I could no longer control myself, and I was about to destroy everything around me, including myself.

He wanted to help me, but I was like a restricted zone, surrounded by a fence of flames.

As I writhed in pain, the words

"I must calm down"

echoed in my mind like a distant resonance.

I was trying to control the power, the fire that was burning me from within, but I knew I was fighting my last battle.

I was struggling against a storm of rage and revenge, the flames consuming me from inside.

In a moment of madness and despair, the image of Knight and his sweet laugh came to mind.

It wasn't just a memory; it was like cold water poured over glowing embers.

I smiled, a faint smile mixed with relief, and felt my anger disappearing, and the fire that surrounded me fading bit by bit until it disappeared completely.

The rage left behind a feeling of exhaustion and extreme fatigue.

Knight rushed to me with fear and concern etched on his face.

I looked at him, and tears made their way down my cheek; I couldn't control them.

"Knight."

I said, my voice trembling. The word came out of me like a cry for help, as if I were a lost child who had found her mother.

Knight leaned toward me and cupped my face with his hands, wiping away my tears with his index finger, as he spoke his soothing words:

"Shhh, everything will be fine."

His words were like a quiet song, calming my fears and returning some of my balance.

I broke into tears and sobbed loudly.

"I am here, I am by your side,"

He said, opening his arms to hold me. I embraced him, burying my head in his chest, feeling that I was in the right place.

"I am tired,"

I said in a whisper, as if describing the state of my exhausted soul.

"It's alright, I am here,"

He said as he returned the embrace strongly, as if he were absorbing all the pain and fatigue from me.

I felt my body relaxing, as if I were about to lose consciousness, but he was there, holding me firmly, carrying me toward my room, toward safety.

I clung to him with all the strength I had, as if clinging to the last straw of survival from an imminent drowning.

His sweet scent, which mixed the smell of coffee and dark chocolate, filled my lungs, and I inhaled it slowly as if it were an antidote for my tormented soul.

I didn't want him to move away; rather, I wanted to stay like this, buried in his chest, where nothing from the outside world could reach me.

He laid me down on the bed and kept holding me close, as if afraid I would escape from his hands.

I felt safety and warmth overwhelming me, as if I were in a warm cave protecting me from a raging storm.

My tense body relaxed.

Sleep was flirting with my eyes, but I was resisting it; I didn't want to leave this moment, this moment where I felt peace and safety.

But exhaustion was stronger than me, and I sank into a deep sleep, leaving behind everything that had happened.