BLOOD MOON

Chapter 16

Haliya

“What is it that you’re curious about?” he asked frankly once I stepped inside.

This Cullen was the same man I had seen back then. I couldn’t believe I had already met him before and only now did I piece it together. A memory flashed. He had been holding that girl so coldly… almost lifeless. I couldn’t help but wonder what he had done to her.

“I’m just a little curious about the rooms… and that last time,” I admitted carefully, referring to our first encounter. I wondered if he even understood what I meant.

“That’s all?”

I nodded quickly. The truth was, I had a dozen questions running through my head, but what if he decided I was asking too much? What if curiosity got me killed? I needed to be careful.

“Seems like you’ve grown rather comfortable here,” he said suddenly, his voice colder now, cutting off my thoughts. His eyes narrowed, studying me like I was a nuisance he hadn’t decided to swat away yet. He didn’t look the least bit pleased that I was being nosy.

I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. Hadn’t he just told me I could knock and ask if I was curious? Or… did I completely read him wrong?

“Do you really think you can ask questions or be curious about our pack? Seems like Kieran let you loose,” he added with a smirk.

Eh? Is he a psycho or something?

Before I could even open my mouth to argue back, Cullen suddenly stood up. The movement was so quick I barely registered it until he was right in front of me. In the next heartbeat, he slammed me hard against the door, the impact knocking the air out of my lungs.

His eyes… they weren’t normal. Gold bled into red, glowing in a way that sent chills down my spine. Like a vampire straight out of a nightmare. He stared at me coldly, so close I could feel the weight of his gaze burning into me. The kind that made me feel like he could devour me alive any second.

My heart literally stopped.

Cullen had both of my hands pinned above me, locking me in place like a prisoner as he leaned closer. My breath hitched, my body stiff. Is he… is he going to bite me? Oh, dear moon. What have I gotten myself into?

“The next time I see you wandering in my place,” he whispered against my ear, “you’ll be dead meat.”

The chill of his words sent my stomach sinking. His grip tightened for a second before he suddenly pulled back, eyes still glowing.

“Get out,” he ordered.

He pushed me out like a damn piece of trash. That jerk Cullen. I glared at the door, trying to regain some composure, my chest rising and falling unevenly. f**k, I am really dumb... this curiosity of mine is going to be the death of me.

“f*****g monster!” I hissed, kicking his door with all the fury left in me before storming off down the hall.

By the time I returned to my room, the anger hadn’t faded, it burned hotter. Kieran still wasn’t here. Not even a shadow of him. A week of silence, a week of being abandoned, and now Cullen treating me like some insect that could be crushed any time.

No. I refuse to stay weak.

If I’m going to survive in this place, if I’m going to face people like Cullen or even Kieran. I need to fight. I need to train.

So the next morning, instead of sulking in my room, I sneaked out again. This time not to wander like a fool, but to find the training grounds I’d overheard the guards mention before. My heart pounded as I slipped past the hallways, but determination steadied my steps.

If no one’s going to protect me, then I’ll damn well protect myself.

But while I was on my way to the training grounds, a realization hit me like a brick. I was a new face in this pack. What if they recognized me? What if they reported me straight to Kieran or worst to their Alpha? Sneaking out would only put more eyes on me.

“You better train in Kieran’s room. Much safer,” my wolf suggested.

I stopped in my tracks, biting my lip. She was right.

I did have proper training back then, back in my pack. But compared to the wolves here... their strength, their speed, their precision, I was nothing. A frail shadow. Weak, pathetic, like a damsel in distress when I should be the opposite.

An Alpha’s daughter is supposed to be strong. Dominant. A warrior. And yet here I was. Hiding.

I sighed, pressing my fingers against my temples. “Look at me…” I muttered under my breath, frustration pooling in my chest. “What a joke.”

So I listened. That night, I locked myself in Kieran’s room and dragged whatever I could to make space. A chair became my makeshift opponent, the bedpost my anchor for balance, and the walls my enemy whenever I slammed against them.

I trained in secret, day after day, pushing my body past exhaustion. Sweat soaked my clothes, my muscles burned, and sometimes I collapsed right on the cold floor. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Every swing, every kick, every strike I practiced was a vow to myself that I wouldn’t remain weak.

A week passed. My body had grown sore, bruised, but I could feel it... little by little I was improving. My movements sharper and my reflexes quicker. Still, the limited space was suffocating. I needed more. I needed real ground to test myself.

That’s when I decided.

If I wanted to get stronger, I had to take the risk.

The next night, I wrapped my chest tight, cut my hair unevenly to make it look shorter, and smeared a bit of dirt on my face. With a hood over my head, I disguised myself as one of the young men of the pack. My heart raced as I snuck into the training grounds.

The clang of weapons, the grunts of warriors, the raw energy in the air... it was intoxicating.

I swallowed hard and walked into the circle. My heart was beating fast, completely scared to get noticed but then this is my only chance to get better. So, it's not or never.

"New recruit?" the one who checked warriors asked me.

I froze, but quickly forced a stiff nod. "Y-yeah," I answered, deepening my voice slightly to sound more masculine. My palms were sweating under the wraps I’d tied around them.

He studied me for a moment too long, and I thought for sure he’d see through me. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. But then he just grunted and jerked his chin toward the field. "Get in line. You’ll start with drills."

Relief rushed through me so strong I almost sagged. Keeping my head down, I shuffled toward the other recruits, mimicking their posture. Sword drills, push-ups, sparring stances. It was brutal, even worse than training in Kieran’s room. But for the first time, I was on real ground. I had real opponents.

When they paired us off, I ended up across from a broad-shouldered warrior who smirked like he knew he’d crush me in seconds. I tightened my fists, swallowed my fear, and squared up.

The warrior across from me cracked his knuckles, his smirk widening. He was bigger, taller, his shoulders like stone walls. His eyes gleamed with the kind of arrogance only someone sure of victory carried.

“Don’t break too easily,” he muttered arrogantly.

I clenched my fists, forcing my trembling legs to steady. The signal was given—

He lunged.

His fist cut through the air, grazing my cheek before I even had time to react. Pain blossomed sharp and hot, and I stumbled back, tasting iron at the corner of my mouth.

“Pathetic,” he sneered, already charging again.

This time I ducked, instincts kicking in. My knuckles connected with his ribs, hard enough to make him grunt but not enough to drop him. His elbow smashed into my back a moment later, sending me sprawling onto the dirt. My palms stung, my breath knocked out, but I forced myself up, wiping the blood off my lip.

I exhaled, tightened my fists, and rushed him.

He clearly wasn’t expecting it... my shoulder slammed into his gut, driving him back a step. But he recovered fast, grabbing my collar and slamming his forehead into mine. Stars burst across my vision. Warmth trickled down from the cut opening above my brow.

“Weak recruit,” he spat.

I staggered, but my wolf’s voice growled in my head: Fight back.

So I did. I twisted, drove my knee straight into his thigh, then used the momentum to swing my fist upward. My knuckles split on his jaw, but the satisfying snap of his head jerking to the side gave me a surge of energy.

The circle of recruits around us began to roar, some cheering for him, some for me.

He wiped the blood from his mouth, his smirk gone now. His eyes narrowed. “Not bad.”

Then he came at me like a storm. Fists, kicks, blows raining down. I blocked some, dodged others, but one caught me in the ribs. I swore I heard something crack. Pain shot through me, but I lashed out in desperation, hooking my arm around his neck and dragging him down with me.

We hit the dirt hard, rolling, both striking wildly. His fist caught my cheek, splitting the skin. Mine drove into his nose, spraying blood. We were both panting, bloodied, but neither backing down.

Finally, he pinned me, only for me to slam my forehead into his nose again, freeing myself. I straddled him for a second, fist raised to finish it—

—but he grabbed my wrist and reversed it in one swift motion.

We froze. Both of us bleeding, both of us shaking, locked in a dead stalemate. His fist hovered near my throat; mine at his temple.

The crowd hushed.

“Enough!” the trainer barked.

We let go, collapsing back on the dirt, gasping, blood staining the ground beneath us. Neither of us had won. Neither had lost.