Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the Lycan King

Chapter 8: Wolf Training

Mate.

The word echoed through my mind like a death sentence.

I shifted back to human form so fast I didn't even think about it—one moment wolf, the next standing naked in the training room with Marcus.

Who was also naked.

Very, very naked.

"Oh my God—" I spun around, heat flooding every inch of my skin. "Clothes! We need clothes!"

I heard Marcus chuckle, low and amused. "It's natural, Emma. Wolves don't exactly come with built-in wardrobes."

"I don't care if it's natural, I'm not having this conversation while—" I gestured wildly behind me, eyes screwed shut. "—while everything is just... out there!"

Movement, then fabric landing at my feet. I cracked one eye open to find a pile of workout clothes. Grabbed them gratefully and yanked them on with record speed.

When I finally turned around, Marcus was fully dressed again, leaning against the mirrored wall with his arms crossed and that infuriating smirk playing at his lips.

"Feel better?"

"No." I glared at him. "Did you just—was that—" I couldn't even say it.

His expression sobered. "Your wolf recognized mine. Yes."

"But that's not possible. I already have a mate. Had a mate. Damien—the bond—" My hands were shaking. I fisted them at my sides. "This doesn't make any sense."

Marcus pushed off the wall, approaching me like I was a spooked animal. Which, fair. "Emma. Breathe."

"Don't tell me to breathe. My wolf just called you—" I couldn't finish. Saying it out loud would make it real.

"Mate," he finished for me, calm and steady. "Yes. She did."

"How is that possible?" The question came out desperate. "Wolves only have one fated mate. One. And mine was Damien, and he rejected me, and the bond is broken. So how—"

"Because it wasn't a true fated bond."

I stopped mid-panic. "What?"

Marcus's eyes held mine, patient and serious. "Damien might have been a compatible mate. But he wasn't your fated mate. There's a difference."

"I don't understand."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Most wolves believe the first bond they feel is fated. But for Royal Lycans, it's more complicated. We can have compatible bonds—wolves we could mate with, build a life with. But the true fated bond?" He stepped closer. "That's rarer. Stronger. Undeniable."

My heart was racing so fast I felt dizzy. "And you're saying that what my wolf just felt was..."

"The real thing." His voice dropped, intimate and rough. "Emma, I've existed for twenty-eight years without feeling a fated pull to anyone. Not once. Then three days ago, I felt your power surge from twenty miles away, and my wolf lost its mind trying to get to you."

"No." I backed up. Hit the mirrored wall. "No, that's not—I can't do this again. I won't."

"I'm not asking you to." Marcus didn't follow me, giving me space. "I'm just explaining what's happening. Your wolf recognizes mine. Mine has recognized yours since I found you in that park. But we don't have to act on it."

I laughed, and it sounded slightly hysterical. "Don't have to act on it? Have you ever tried to ignore a mate bond?"

"No. But I'll learn if that's what you need."

The sincerity in his voice made my chest tight. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to my chest. "I can't go through that again. The bond, the rejection, the pain. I can't."

Marcus moved then, but only to sit across from me, giving me space. "I understand. And I'm not Damien, Emma. I won't reject you. Ever. But I also won't force this on you." He met my eyes. "We can work around it. The bond doesn't control us—we control it."

"Can we though?" I whispered. "Control it?"

"We're going to try." He offered a small smile. "Starting with training. You need to learn to manage your wolf's instincts separately from your own feelings. It's harder for Royal Lycans—our wolves are more powerful, more insistent. But it can be done."

I took a shaky breath. Then another. My wolf was quiet now, curled up in the back of my mind like she was perfectly satisfied with how this had gone. Traitor.

"Okay," I said finally. "Okay. We train. We ignore the bond. We... figure this out."

"One step at a time." Marcus stood, offering his hand.

I looked at it for a long moment. Taking his hand felt dangerous now, knowing what I knew. But I'd promised to train. To get stronger. And I kept my promises.

I took his hand.

The moment our skin touched, electricity sparked between us—not the violent silver explosion from before, but something warmer, more insistent. My wolf purred.

Marcus's eyes flashed gold for just a second.

Then he pulled me to my feet and immediately let go, stepping back to a professional distance.

"Right," he said, and his voice was rougher than before. "Let's start with control exercises. You shifted very quickly just now—instinctive response. I want to see if you can do it intentionally, smoothly, without the emotional trigger."

I nodded, grateful for something concrete to focus on instead of the bond neither of us wanted to acknowledge.

"Shift, but slowly this time," Marcus instructed. "Feel every part of the change. Stay in control."

I closed my eyes and reached for my wolf. She came eagerly, but I held her back, letting the shift happen in slow motion. Bones reshaping, fur sprouting, senses expanding. It should have hurt—shifts always hurt before. But now it felt natural. Right.

When I opened my eyes, I was wolf again, and Marcus was watching with fascination.

"Good. Now back."

I shifted to human, focusing on making it gradual instead of the panicked transformation from before. It worked. Smooth, controlled, easy.

"Excellent." Marcus circled me slowly, evaluating. "You're a natural. Most newly awakened Royals struggle with shift control for months. You've mastered it in under twelve hours."

Pride warmed my chest. "What's next?"

"Combat training." His smile turned predatory. "Wolf against wolf. I want to see how you fight."

My wolf perked up at that, eager. "You want to spar? With me?"

"Unless you're afraid you'll lose."

The challenge in his voice made my blood heat. I shifted before I could overthink it, dropping into a crouch.

Marcus's grin widened. Then he shifted too, that massive black wolf appearing in a blur.

And lunged.

Twenty minutes later, I lay on my back in wolf form, Marcus's jaws carefully locked around my throat in a clear submission hold. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to prove his point: he was stronger, faster, more experienced.

I whined in frustration.

He released me immediately, stepping back.

I shifted to human, breathing hard. "You're impossible. How am I supposed to even touch you when you move like that?"

Marcus shifted as well, looking infuriatingly unruffled. "You did well for your first real fight. You have good instincts—you anticipated three of my moves."

"And missed the other twenty."

"Twenty-seven," he corrected, then smirked when I glared. "But who's counting?"

I grabbed a water bottle someone had left courtside and drained half of it. My body ached in a way that felt good—muscles actually working, power flowing freely. I'd never felt more alive.

"Again," I demanded.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "You're exhausted."

"I'm fine. Again."

We went six more rounds. He won every single one, but each time I lasted a little longer, landed a hit or two. By the final round, I managed to duck under his attack and actually get my jaws around his leg—not hard, just enough to claim a point.

When we finally stopped, both in human form and breathing hard, the sun had moved significantly across the sky.

"You're relentless," Marcus said, and there was something in his voice that made me look up.

He was staring at me with an intensity that had nothing to do with training.

"I'm motivated," I managed, suddenly aware of how close we were standing. How good he smelled even covered in sweat. How my wolf was practically begging me to close the distance between us.

"Emma." My name on his lips was almost a groan. "We should stop for today."

"Why?" The word came out breathless.

"Because if we don't, I'm going to do something we both agreed not to do."

His honesty was like cold water. Right. The bond we were ignoring. The feelings we weren't acting on.

I stepped back, putting safe distance between us. "Right. Good idea."

For a long moment, we just stood there, the air thick with everything we weren't saying.

Then Marcus's phone buzzed, shattering the tension.

He checked it, and his expression darkened. "We have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

His golden eyes met mine, hard and dangerous.

"Damien Cross just arrived at the estate gates. And he's demanding to see you."