Kneel For Me, Weakling

Willow's pov

His lip curled in disbelief. 

“You’re either very brave,” he murmured, leaning closer, his scent wrapping around me like a threat, “or very stupid.”

Maybe both.

I tightened my grip on my books. “Then move.”

For a split second, shock flickered in his eyes.

Then suddenly, it shifted to rage,  hot and uncontrollable. His control surged hard enough that my knees nearly buckled.

Nearly.

But I held my ground.

“Bow.”

I blinked, genuinely unsure if I’d heard him right. 

Around us, the courtyard had gone unnaturally quiet. 

“I’m sorry?” I said.

Zandro loomed closer, his shadow swallowing mine. He was taller than I’d realized up close, broader too. He was handsome… infuriatingly so. 

His storm-grey eyes dragged over me slowly, like he was measuring how easily I could be broken.

“You ran into me,” he said. His voice thick with restrained anger. “Then you spoke out of turn.”

“I apologized.”

He laughed once, low and humorless. “That wasn’t an apology. Do it with a bow”

I felt a mixture of fear and anger. The anger rose higher to the surface. 

“I said I was sorry,” I repeated. “And I told you to move. I’m a student here. Same as you.”

A ripple went through the watching wolves, murmurs spreading around me. 

Zandro’s expression shifted. He raked his hands through his hair. 

“Same as me,” he echoed. “You?”

His gaze dipped, openly dismissive. “You’re barely standing.”

I forced my hands to stop shaking around my books. “I’m not the one posturing in a courtyard.”

The air thickened instantly.

My wolf surged forward instinctively, hackles raised, furious at the challenge. I barely held her back.

He bit his lower lip. That sight shouldn't arouse me but it did. 

“You are nothing but a weakling remember that.”

He leaned closer. 

“Now… Bow,” he repeated. Louder now. The commanding tone was unmistakable. 

Every instinct screamed at me to obey.

I didn’t.

My breath went shallow, and for one terrifying second I thought my body might betray me...but I locked my jaw and lifted my chin instead.

“No.”

The sound that followed wasn’t loud.

Someone laughed nervously. Someone else swore under their breath.

I had just made a mistake.

I knew it even as my heart pounded violently in my chest.

But humiliation burned hotter than fear, and I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

His lips curved slowly, dangerously. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”

“I know exactly who you are,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

That caught him off guard. Just for a fraction of a second.

His eyes narrowed. “Then this just got interesting.”

Before he could say anything else, another presence slammed into the space beside us. 

“Zandro,” a new voice said. “What’s taking so long?”

I turned. 

What… What is going on? 

The books started to weigh heavily on my hands. 

It was Alpha Ronan. He was built like a weapon...muscle packed tight beneath his uniform, tanned skin, with a curly hair that framed his forehead. 

Did my mother bring me here to choose among the men?

I should have suspected that this was anything other than her selfish needs. 

She just wanted me to get married to one of them to strengthen her claim on the throne. 

Did they know about it? 

Ronan took one look at me and froze.

My breath caught as the bond flared.

My wolf recoiled and surged at the same time, confused and furious. 

I swallowed hard, thighs pressing together on instinct. 

He snapped out of it quickly, pretending there wasn't something pulling us together. 

“Well,” he said slowly, eyes locked on mine. “Who’s this?”

Zandro didn’t look away from me. “A problem.”

Ronan’s mouth tilted into a grin. “She doesn’t look like much.”

“She has a mouth,” Zandro replied with a smirk. “And no survival instinct.”

I bristled. “I’m standing right here.”

Amber eyes flicked to Zandro, feigning surprise. “She talks too.”

“Enough to forget her place.”

Ronan stepped closer, invading my space without asking. His scent hit me…warm, wild, dangerous. My pulse spiked traitorously.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

I hesitated.

False identity. Remember.

“…Amber.”

His eyebrows narrowed. 

“I am Ronan,” he said. “You just insulted the future High Alpha of Blackfang.”

My chest tightened.

“And you,” Ronan continued, voice dropping, “are definitely not supposed to be here.”

“I was admitted,” I shot back. “Same as everyone else!”

Zandro’s gaze dragged over me again. “If that’s true,” he said, “prove you understand hierarchy.”

Ronan leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Kneel.”

The word sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with fear.

I clenched my fists. “No.”

Zandro laughed softly. “You really don’t learn.”

Ronan’s grin widened. “Fuck! I like her.”

“You like anything that bites,” Zandro replied.

“I like things that fight back.”

I hated that my body reacted to them...to the way their attention pressed in from both sides, to the pressure of their presence, to the raw authority crackling between them like a live wire.

I hated that my wolf leaned toward Ronan even as my mind screamed at her to stop.

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Zandro said. “Last chance.”

I swallowed. My heart hammered so hard it hurt.

“I won’t kneel,” I said. “Not for you. Not for anyone.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd again.

Ronan clicked his tongue. “Stubborn.”

“Stupid,” Zandro corrected.

A girl rushed past our side, small, pale… her eyes wide with fear. Zandro caught her by her arms. 

“You,” he said sharply.

She flinched. “Y-yes, Alpha?”

“Kneel.”

In a second, she dropped instantly. Her knees hitting stone, head bowed so low her hair brushed the ground.

My stomach twisted at the sight. I moved towards her but Zandro wrapped his arms around me, caging me with his body. 

My back pressed into his thick length. I sucked in a breath as his smell engulfed me. 

Zandro leaned towards my ears, his lips grazing my ears. I had to stop myself from moaning. “See how easy that was?”

Ronan smiled as he crouched in front of the kneeling girl. “Tell her,” he said, nodding toward me. “Give her some fucking advice.”

The girl’s voice shook as she spoke. “You should kneel,” she whispered. “Before it gets worse.”