CHAPTER 6

(Cullen’s POV)

The morning air was cold, sharp, and clean. It smelled like the scent of discipline.

I liked it that way.

The training ground was already alive with movement. Wolves in human form sparred, their fists hitting hard, their grunts echoing across the field. The sound of control, loyalty, and strength — everything the Phoenix Pack stood for.

I stood at the edge, watching. My presence alone was enough to make them push harder. Every warrior here knew what happened when you disappointed me and they won't dare to do so.

“Again,” I barked, as two of them stumbled apart.

They didn’t hesitate. They went right back in, fists up, eyes on each other. Blood ran from one man’s nose, but he didn’t stop. Pain built respect. That was the rule.

Darius walked up beside me. “They’re getting better,” he said.

“They’re still slow,” I replied. “A second of weakness gets you killed.”

He gave me a side look. “You sound like you’re talking about yourself.”

I ignored him, eyes still on the men.

He smirked. “You haven’t been the same since she came.”

My jaw clenched. “Watch your words.”

“Just saying,” he shrugged. “You’ve got her locked up in the mansion, yet she’s living rent-free in your head.”

I shot him a cold stare. “Focus on training them. Not me.”

He laughed under his breath and walked off.

But damn him — he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. The way she stood in front of me without fear, the way her voice shook when she fought to sound strong. The way her eyes refused to lower when I spoke to her.

No one had ever looked at me like that. Not with that mix of anger, hate, and… something else. Something dangerous.

I pushed the thought away.

She was a prisoner. That was it.

By noon, the sun had turned harsh and burning.I ended the training and headed back to the mansion. My muscles were tense, my mind restless. I needed a shower, maybe a drink, and silence.

But when I walked into the hallway, she was there.

Séraphine.

Standing by the window, her mask still on, sunlight spilling over her hair. She wasn’t supposed to be wandering around alone, but her guard stood a few feet away, pretending not to stare for so long.

She turned when she heard my steps. “Alpha.”

Her voice was calm, but her eyes gave her away — tired, sharp, a little wild.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” I said.

She tilted her head. “I wasn’t aware walking was against the rules.”

“It’s not,” I said, walking closer, “but most people here don’t test boundaries.”

“I’m not most people.”

“I know.”

Silence filled the space between us. The kind that felt too thick to breathe in because it was awkward.

I should’ve told her to go back to her room. But I didn’t. Instead, I found myself watching her — the way the sunlight caught in her hair, how her mask didn’t hide the curve of her lips or the defiance in her stance.

She crossed her arms. “Something wrong, Alpha?”

I blinked once, pulling myself back. “You’re adjusting too fast.”

“Would you rather I cry all day?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” I said.

She smiled — small, almost mocking. “I don’t cry for men like you.”

That made me laugh softly. “Men like me?”

“Powerful, arrogant, and too used to getting what they want.”

I stepped closer, until there was barely a foot of space between us. “You think you know what I want?”

Her chin lifted. “I know you want control. You breathe it. You live for it.”

My eyes dropped to her lips for a second before I caught myself. “And you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you live for, Séraphine?”

Her voice turned low, steady. “For the day you regret not killing me.”

I should’ve been angry. I should’ve ordered her to leave.

Instead, I felt that same spark — the one that made my blood heat in ways I didn’t like.

She turned to walk away, but I grabbed her wrist gently. “You think you’re safe because I gave you a contract,” I said quietly. “Don’t mistake mercy for weakness.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And don’t mistake silence for surrender.”

Her pulse raced under my touch. I felt it. I knew she did too.

I let go first. She walked off without another word, her dress brushing against my arm as she passed.

When she was gone, I exhaled and ran a hand through my hair.

I didn’t know what the hell she was doing to me. But I knew one thing — if I wasn’t careful, Séraphine Black would be the one thing I couldn’t control.