Chapter 3 – The Dominion Trials Begin

The rain finally stopped before dawn, leaving the air thick and cold. I hadn’t slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him—Xander Vale, standing too close, voice curling around my secret like smoke.

Stop pretending, Omega.

The words echoed through me long after he was gone.

By morning, the injector lay in pieces on my desk, the scent of suppressant still faint in the air. I scrubbed the traces away until my hands ached, but nothing could wash off the fear clinging to my skin.

If Xander decided to talk—if he told anyone—I was finished. My life, my mother’s safety, everything I’d built to survive in this academy of monsters would collapse.

But he hadn’t said a word. Not that night. Not when we passed each other in the corridor before the Trials.

He just looked at me. Once. Long enough to remind me that he knew.

The rest of the world didn’t notice. Ironclad Academy was too busy with the Dominion Trials—the annual bloodsport designed to test an Alpha’s dominance and ruthlessness. Survival meant advancement. Weakness meant humiliation—or worse.

As the sun rose behind the fortress walls, the entire student body gathered in the arena. The metal floor gleamed under the lights, ringed with steel barricades. The air buzzed with tension, the scent of Alphas thick and heady.

Instructor Reyne stood at the center, flanked by officers from the High Command. “Dominion Trials will begin in three minutes,” he barked. “Top twenty ranks will face off for supremacy. There will be no second chances.”

My pulse thrummed. This was what I lived for—the battlefield where I could prove that no one was stronger, colder, or more Alpha than me.

Except now, Xander knew that was a lie.

He was assigned to the same bracket as me, of course. The crowd roared when our names flashed side by side on the holographic board:

Zade Varyn vs. Xander Vale.

Perfect.

He caught my eye across the arena, smirking as if the universe existed purely for his amusement. I met his gaze without flinching, even though my stomach twisted.

The whistle blew.

We stepped into the ring.

His stance was relaxed, confident. Mine was calculated precision. Every movement had to scream Alpha—commanding, merciless, impossible to question.

Reyne raised a hand. “Begin.”

The world narrowed to the two of us.

He came at me fast, like lightning. I blocked, dodged, countered, our blows cracking through the air. Each impact jarred through muscle and bone, a rhythm I knew too well. The crowd roared, but their voices blurred into static.

Only him. Only his eyes.

He was testing me—not just my strength, but my control. Each time he feinted, he stepped closer, scent flooding the space between us. I could feel it dragging at my composure, stirring the instincts I’d fought my whole life to bury.

Then he did it deliberately—brushed close enough that his breath ghosted over my jaw. “Careful,” he murmured, too low for anyone else to hear. “You’re trembling.”

Rage flared. I struck harder, forcing him back. The shock on his face was brief, replaced by that infuriating grin.

“You hit like someone who’s hiding something,” he taunted.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, come on, Zade. Don’t get shy on me now.”

I drove him to the ground, knee pressing into his chest, forearm at his throat. “Yield.”

He didn’t. He smiled. “Make me.”

The whistle shrieked, ending the round, but I didn’t move. Neither did he. We stayed locked in that moment—his eyes dark, mine cold—until Reyne’s voice broke through.

“Varyn, Vale—enough!”

I pushed off him, stepping back. My pulse thundered so hard it hurt.

We returned to our corners. The crowd loved it. They saw rivals locked in battle, not a predator who’d just cornered the prey hiding in plain sight.

By the second round, I’d rebuilt my composure brick by brick. I fought three opponents in succession, every move sharp, brutal, clean. No hesitation. No weakness.

When it ended, I stood ranked first. Xander second.

Reyne announced the results, his voice echoing across the hall. Cheers erupted, fists pumped, but I barely heard them. Xander was watching me again—silent, unreadable.

When the crowd dispersed, I turned to leave.

“Varyn.” His voice stopped me.

He stood by the exit, sweat-damp hair falling across his brow. “You fought like hell today,” he said, tone light.

“Didn’t realize you cared.”

He stepped closer, his presence wrapping around me like heat. “I do now.”

I forced a smirk. “You’re still second.”

He leaned in, close enough that I felt the whisper of his breath. “You can keep first place,” he said softly. “I already have what I want.”

My chest tightened. “And what’s that?”

His eyes flicked down to my throat, then back up, burning with something dangerous. “Your secret.”

Then he brushed past me, leaving the faintest trace of his scent in the air.

I stood frozen, the noise of the arena fading around me.

He wasn’t going to tell. Not yet. But the way he looked at me said it all—he didn’t want to expose me. He wanted to own me.

And that terrified me more than anything.