Alpha's Daughter: Surviving The Claim

Spare Me

Rage boiled under Killian’s skin as he watched Catherine walk up the steps to the arena.

He’d known something was wrong as soon as he’d caught her scent. It was mixed with blood— a coppery smell, and he could smell the stress all over her.

Seeing her only confirmed it. Her name was called by Elder Beau, and he watched her weakly grip the railing on the stairs as she held onto it for support. The four long gashes across her cheek— fresh, since they had just barely stopped bleeding and started to heal- were angry and raw, and her clothes were covered in violent red stains. Her eyes were fuzzy as she locked eyes with Elder Beau, as if she couldn’t quite get them to focus. She was pale and clammy, her forehead glistening.

His claws elongated, his eyes blackening as with rage as he watched Elder Beau approach and whisper in her ear. Catherine shook her head, and Elder Beau’s eyes slithered over to Killian before darting over to Luna Felicity, telling him what he knew without saying a word.

The Luna was wearing a smirk that told it all.

And Killian had every intention of ripping her throat out.

Christian came up beside Killian. “They can’t possibly be making her spar this way,” he hissed angrily. “Why isn’t she healing faster?”

“Wolfsbane,” Killian spat, venom lacing his words. “They start dosing the females with it in their food upon arrival. It weakens them and helps keep them compliant with the Claim. I doubt she even realizes why she’s not healing.”

She didn’t, Killian noted. Catherine had lifted her chin in the air, holding herself with pride, despite the dazed look in her eyes and the pain that made her jaw clench.

His wolf snarled in his head, spitting rage and violence as images of Luna Felicity gutted like a pig came to mind.

She must choose us for the spar, his wolf snarled. We can heal her. We can heal mate.

Yes, Killian knew he could heal her. Their mate bond would allow it. But he wasn’t sure Catherine would choose him at all— despite the way her eyes darted to rest on his face, analyzing, as she waited to give Elder Beau her answer about her partner.

Thorn was a few paces behind him, whispering angrily to his beta. Angrily— as if Catherine was already his.

Killian’s eyes fixed on the glowing white ones ahead of him, willing her to make the right choice.

Beau cleared his throat, and Killian hadn’t even realized he had been speaking. “Who do you select for the first spar, Catherine Conri?”

Her eyes landed on Killian again, dancing between him and Thorn. He wasn’t sure what she saw in his face, but she seemed sure of herself now.

The crowd around them hushed.

“Killian Black. I choose Killian Black.”

The words sent his wolf howling with victory— and relief spread through him. It was an unfamiliar sensation. The desire to get her to submit to him was now shrouded with worry over her safety and well being— and Killian hated it. He hated the softness she was bringing out of him. He hated her for it. How gravity seemed to orient him around her when she was in the room— how the entire world seemed to quiet when she spoke.

Killian approached the arena, taking the spot beside Elder Beau, his body tingling at the promixity when he was close enough to smell her.

She stared at him with eyes full of hatred, and he realized why she’d done it. Because she wasn’t weak— and she wanted to prove it.

“Let’s go over the rules, shall we?” Elder Beau interrupted the staring match.

“The rules are very simple. No marking is permitted during the spar. The spar is one round— and only ends when the female submits, or the male is unable to continue.”

Elder Beau turned to Killian, his eyes cold. “Yes, very simple rules. Do not mark her, and do not kill her. Are we understood, Alpha Black?”

Killian smirked at Beau. “I’ll manage, Elder.”