CHAPTER 31: A HARD-EARNED LESSON

The next morning, I woke up with Zane to head to training. On our way, I turned to him and asked, “Can we start with another sparring session today?”

“Sure,” Zane replied. “Will it be like last time?”

“No,” I answered. “I want Summers to spar with Lieutenant Aaron. It’s time to see how much he’s improved.”

Zane gave me an easy nod. “Okay, I trust your judgment.” His instant faith in me warmed my chest.

“Of course he trusts you. You’re his mate,” Cece chimed in.

Cece, I don’t want his trust just because I’m his mate. I want to earn it, I replied, a pang of sadness threading through my thoughts.

But Zane had overheard—maybe I hadn’t shielded my thoughts well enough. He caught my arm, stopping me mid-step, and turned me toward him. His voice was firm through the mindlink.

"You have earned my trust—countless times. Through your kindness, your leadership in battle, the way you put the pack before yourself. I don’t believe in you just because fate made you mine. I believe in you because you’ve proven yourself, over and over."

My breath caught as I searched his face. There was no lie in his eyes—only pride, conviction. Emotion swelled in my chest, and before I could overthink it, I kissed him, quick but meaningful, before we continued toward the training yard.

We began with our usual warm-up run, keeping pace side by side. Once we finished, the warriors gathered in the center to stretch. As we rose to split into training pairs, Zane’s voice boomed across the field.

“Everyone, gather up!”

The warriors assembled quickly, front rows kneeling so those behind could see. Zane gestured for me to join him.

Stepping forward, I addressed the group. “I asked Alpha Zane if we could kick things off with a sparring match.” Excited murmurs rippled through the crowd—no doubt remembering my last spar with Summers.

“Lieutenant Aaron,” I called, watching as he swaggered forward, arrogance written all over his face.

Oh, this’ll be fun, I linked to Zane, who growled beside me as warriors clapped Aaron on the back, likely egging him on with whatever nonsense boosted his ego.

“Lieutenant,” I began, tone light but edged with challenge, “I’ve heard you earned your rank quickly—that you’re one of the best fighters here.”

His smirk widened. “Absolutely, ma’am. This won’t be like sparring a cadet.”

I matched his cocky grin with a sweet, razor-sharp smile of my own. “Oh, you won’t be sparring me, Lieutenant. Besides, you wouldn’t land a single hit unless I allowed it.”

The warriors erupted in laughter and jeers. Aaron’s smirk faltered.

“No,” I continued. “You’ll be facing Cadet Summers. I want to see how much he’s learned by fighting a real opponent.”

The crowd roared, and Aaron’s glare snapped toward Summers, irritation flashing in his eyes. The circle formed around them, buzzing with anticipation.

Before they began, I called out, “Cadet Summers?”

He straightened, wary but attentive. “Yes, ma’am?”

I let my smirk turn sharp—the same one I’d given him during our first match. “Don’t hold back.”

Slowly, his own grin mirrored mine.

“Summers,” I said, “open a mindlink. I want to hear your thoughts during the fight. We’ll refine your tactics afterward.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

Both fighters turned to Zane for the signal. Zane’s command cut through the tension. “Human forms only. Begin.”

They began circling—Aaron tense, Summers eerily still. Grayson and Carlos joined Zane and me.

After five seconds of hesitation, Summers deliberately stopped moving. Aaron, thrown off, lunged.

Just as I’d trained him, Summers read Aaron’s body like an open book. When the lieutenant rocked back slightly before throwing a right hook, Summers saw it coming. He tilted his head left—barely a twitch—and let the punch whistle past.

Aaron tried another right hook. Summers dodged again but missed the feint—Aaron’s left fist sank into his gut, dropping him hard. The lieutenant spun away, arms raised in premature victory. The crowd cheered.

Summers bounced up, wiping his mouth. “Not bad Lieutenant,” he taunted. “But you won’t get another shot.”

And he didn’t.

Summers blocked everything—punches, kicks, even a last-second swipe Aaron nearly landed. To the crowd, it looked like desperate defense. But I knew better. He was conserving energy, letting Aaron burn himself out.

They’re forgetting rule one, I mindlinked the males beside me. Underestimate him.

Aaron finally paused, chest heaving, guard up. Summers shot me a glance over the lieutenant’s shoulder. I gave a single nod.

No warning. Just a lightning jab—crack—Aaron’s nose shattered. As he reeled back, clutching his face, Summers hammered his throat. The lieutenant staggered, choking, and Summers stepped away clean.

Zane, Carlos, and Grayson turned to stare as I burst into laughter.

“Gentlemen,” I called, loud enough to cut through the murmurs, “for the love of god. We train like we fight. If you wouldn’t bare your throats in battle, don’t do it in training. That’s just Commonsense 101.”

Summers waited, poised, while Aaron spat blood and wheezed. The moment the lieutenant steadied himself, the real fight began.

Aaron was furious. Summers was a focused.

This is about to get good. I grinned as my mates joined us, shifting excitedly. Damn, I wish I had popcorn.

The guys rolled their eyes, but their smiles betrayed them.

Summers attacked without pattern—face, ribs, thighs—a relentless storm. Aaron’s guard faltered; jabs split his lips.

You’d think he had learned his lesson last time, I said to our little group, and no, I am not going to stop the commentary.

When Aaron raised his arms, Summers wrecked his ribs. When he hunched, hooks cracked his jaw. A kick buckled his knee—finally, Aaron takes Summers to the ground.

“Summers is done,” Carlos muttered. “Aaron’s unbeaten on the ground.”

Well that’s about to change, I countered.

Marcus materialized beside me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m with Luna. It’s like night and day with this Cadet. Last I saw, Summers was useless on the ground. But something tells me Luna fixed that first.”

I patted his cheek. “I knew I liked you for a reason, smart and cute.”

A chorus of growls erupted. Marcus laughed as Zane and Dean shouldered him away, flanking me possessively.

On the ground, Aaron mounted Summers, raining punches while Summers blocked. But I saw the cadet testing his leverage—subtle hip shifts, calculating the flip.

“He’s got it,” I mused. “In three. Two. One.”

Summers abruptly twisted his right hip upward while dropping his left, sending Aaron tumbling onto his back as he rolled them over.

“Remind me never to underestimate Luna again,” General Grayson muttered. The others nodded in agreement.

Kneeling, Summers seized Aaron’s arm, swung his leg around, and locked it between his thighs. With a sharp thrust of his hips, he wrenched Aaron into a punishing armbar—controlling his arm with his legs, leveraging pressure against the elbow until Aaron had no choice but to tap out.

The moment Aaron submitted, Summers released him and stood victorious.

I started down toward Summers as the others lingered, dissecting the fight. The warriors, spotting my approach, hastily reformed their circle.

But Aaron, furious over his loss, wasn’t done. Before anyone could react, his hand shifted into claws, and he lunged at Summers’ exposed back, clearly aiming to slash him.

Instinct took over. I sprinted forward, shoving Summers aside just in time to intercept Aaron’s strike. Twisting, I caught his wrist, redirecting the claw’s path as I drove a punch into his gut. When he doubled over, I struck his temple, knocking him out cold.

Silence gripped the field. Every warrior stood frozen, stunned by either Aaron’s dishonorable move or my quick reaction.

Eyes blazing, I scanned the crowd and snarled, “If anyone else pulls a cheap shot because they can’t handle losing, they’ll deal with me. Understood?”

A wave of unease rippled through them as they stepped back, finally grasping the danger I posed. A chorus of “Yes, ma’am” followed.

“Damn, Luna. Got a sister?” Marcus blurted, trying to lighten the mood—though his joke only heightened their fear for their Beta.

I smirked. “No sisters. Just a brother.”

Most laughed; others remained tense.

“Hard pass,” Marcus grumbled before hauling Aaron’s limp form over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

I turned to Summers, offering a hand. “You okay? Didn’t mean to shove you so hard.”

He clasped my forearm firmly. “I’m good. Thanks for the save, Luna.” His respect was clear—and I vowed never to betray that trust.

Just then, my mates appeared.

“Well, about time you showed up,” I teased.

The warriors gaped. No one spoke to them—especially Zane—like that.

“Did I not tell you, that if I didn’t want anyone to touch me, then they wouldn’t,” I said a little sassy.

Zane’s laughter—full, unrestrained—shocked them all.

Luke and Jason seized my arms, hauling me off as I playfully yelled, “Help! Don’t let them take me!”

Summers called back, “Luna, let’s be real—you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah, fair point!” I conceded, and the last of the tension shattered in shared laughter.

Training resumed, and I stayed to observe, fielding questions from warriors eager to learn my techniques.

Zane’s voice echoed through their minds via the pack link:

“Luna is my equal. Her word is law, whether I’m present or not. Those who wish to train under her will be added to the roster. Inform your superiors if interested.”

I smiled at him. Thank you. Then, to the warrior beside me: “There’s your answer.”

When training ended, the warriors dispersed for breakfast while we headed to the war room—a renamed conference room on the Beta’s floor—to finalize plans for the facility.