All Chapters of MATED TO THE ENEMY: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

I hated myself and every inch of the soft bed I was lying in mocked me. The white sheets, the faint scent of antiseptic and lavender reminded me of my own weakness. I shouldn’t have come here. I should’ve withstood it, his beast, his presence, his power. I should’ve looked him dead in the eye and not flinched, not crumbled like I did.“Pathetic,” I muttered under my breath, turning again in the bed, wincing as a dull ache shot through my ribs. I cursed quietly, dragging my arm over my eyes. I should’ve stayed standing. I should’ve stayed strong.Instead, I lay there like some wounded pup in the healing center. The day had grown brighter; sunlight leaked through the blinds in sharp, golden lines, and I could hear the soft hum of students walking past the hallway... laughing, gossiping, living. The world didn’t stop because I broke.My body ached, my pride stung worse, and I cursed myself under my breath for looking weak. For being weak. For crumbling like some fragile thing in front of

When the commander arrived, his face was carved in stone. “What’s going on here?”I pointed at Aklan, still seething. “He tripped me. On purpose. He kicked my hand and made me fall. Then ordered me to start all over.”The commander blinked, his brows creasing in confusion. “He… kicked your hand?”“Yes!” My voice cracked. “That’s exactly what happened.”I repeated myself again, slower this time, like maybe he hadn’t heard me. But his frown deepened.“Trainee,” he said, his voice sharp, “What do you think this is? A Fae tea party? No offense to the Faes. If you want to prance around, transfer to another major or drop out of the academy completely. Do not pull such silly stunts again. You are wasting my time and everyone else’s. Aklan is in charge of this training ground. His word is law here. Understood?”Heat flooded my face as I nodded slowly. The other newbies were staring now, their murmurs growing louder. I opened my mouth to argue, but the commander cut me off with a sharp huff an

Her words felt like I had been cut open with a butcher’s knife. Was Ferna suggesting that I grovel and beg that murderer?She took a deep breath before she continued. “He’s a third-year student with an outstanding record. He led an army before he even came to Norsen for gods’ sake. His father’s the king of Narth, the Lycan kingdom. He’s got the highest scores and records this school’s ever seen. Crossing him, fighting him—it’s not a good idea.”My brother led an army too, he was great, and had a bright future and now I have to suck up to his killer?I whirled around, my hands flying into the air in disbelief. “Are you praising nepotism? Because that’s exactly what it sounds like. That he comes from a rich kingdom and that’s why he’s untouchable?” My voice trembled with frustration, and Elsie and Ferna flinched slightly at the venom in it.Elsie’s lips parted as if she were about to speak, but I cut her off. “And you too, Elsie. You’re going along with it, defending him. I see it the w

He raised an eyebrow and resumed his reps like I was barely worth his attention. “Why else do you keep staring? Keep doing things to get my attention?”“I don’t like you,” I said quickly. “I’m not—” I stopped. It sounded weak even to me. I want to kill you, you sick bastard.“Everyone in the school’s calling you my fan girl, my stalker. They can all see your obsession with me, Kitten. You will get yourself in trouble with that silly little behavior.”My anger spiked, hot and sharp, flooding my chest. “I’m not obsessed with you!” I snapped. “I don’t like you, and I’m not a stalker! It’s all a misunderstanding!”Aklan scoffed; the sound dripped with disbelief. He set the barbell down again and stood, towering over me; his presence was suffocating. “Then why are you here, bothering me in the gym?”I swallowed, my throat tight. “I want a truce so I can go back to classes.”He tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “I’m not stopping you from attending classes. That’s the dean of the

I sat at the edge of the chair in the Dean’s office, my knees pressed together, palms slick against the fabric of my uniform pants. The room smelled faintly of ink and old wood polish, and the ticking clock behind me did nothing to ease the pounding in my chest.Across the wide oak desk, Dean Marlowe read my letter of apology—or rather, glanced through it like she was skimming a grocery list. My heart sank a little with every second her eyes darted across the page. She didn’t even pause on the words I’d rewritten five times last night, the ones that were supposed to show her I was genuinely sorry.When she finally looked up, her sharp blue eyes caught mine. “Cadet Rougeworth,” she said, voice calm, composed. “Why did you choose to major in War and Combat Strategy?”Her tone wasn’t accusatory, just curious, but my throat tightened anyway. I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay even. “To protect my people,” I said, meeting her gaze. “To keep them safe.”The dean raised an eyebrow, setti