Chereads / The Cursed Luna Returns / Chapter 7 - Fire Within

Chapter 7 - Fire Within

"Move faster!" Ronan's bark cut through the chill like a whip.

Selene bit back a sharp retort, her jaw clenching as she pushed her body to comply. Sweat dripped down her back, her legs shaking from the relentless drills. A wooden staff was her weapon today, but it felt more like a burden than a tool.

"Again."

The word hit her like a blow, more punishing than the bruises already blooming along her arms.

She tightened her grip on the staff, the rough wood splintering against her palms. Swing, block, step. Her movements were sloppy, the sting of Ronan's disapproval a constant weight pressing down on her shoulders.

From the sidelines, Ronan's icy blue eyes followed her every move, unblinking and unyielding. His presence was suffocating, his judgment heavy in the air. He didn't say much, but he didn't need to—his silence was louder than any reprimand.

"Again!" Keaelen's voice carried less venom but no less urgency. The Beta stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes held a spark of something different. Curiosity, maybe. Or pity.

Selene gritted her teeth and lunged forward, her staff aimed at the target ahead. The wooden post shuddered under her strike but remained upright, mocking her effort.

"Pathetic," Ronan muttered, his voice barely louder than a growl.

Heat flared in her chest, anger mingling with exhaustion. She turned to face him, her chest heaving with labored breaths. "If you want me to be better, maybe try teaching instead of barking orders," she snapped.

The training ground fell silent.

Keaelen raised a brow, a smirk at the corner of his lips. The other wolves nearby stopped what they were doing, their gazes flitting between Selene and their Alpha.

Ronan's jaw tightened, muscles ticking dangerously at the edges. He stepped closer, looming like an enormous shadow. "Do you think this is a lesson in etiquette?" he said, lowering his voice dangerously and winding like a snake.

"I'm trying to prepare you to survive, not thrive. Your enemies won't even grant you a second chance and neither will I," here he pointed at her in an accusing tone. Selene held her ground, refusing to flinch under his glare. "If you want me to survive, then stop treating me like I'm already dead."

For a moment, something flashed in his eyes—anger, maybe, or respect buried too deep to surface. But then it was gone, replaced by the familiar mask of cold indifference.

"Ten more rounds," he ordered, turning on his heel. "If you collapse, you start over."

Selene watched his receding figure through trembling hands, which were shaky from something other than fatigue. He approached her with a blank expression-shaded face."Bold move," he said quietly, his tone laced with amusement.

She shot him a glare, gripping the staff tighter. "Save the commentary."

Keaelen chuckled as he stepped closer and adjusted her feet. "If you want to prove to him otherwise, then perfect your technique. Like this." He brushed hands with hers as he repositioned her grip. "Everything's about balance.

Selene huffed but followed his directions to shift her pound into her back foot and swung again, making the staff hit the post with more force.

"Better," Keaelen said, nodding.

Finally, she could catch the slightest flicker of approval in his eyes. Not that much, but enough to put some more fuel on her determination.

Selene took the canteen, her fingers brushing his. "Not for lack of trying," she muttered before taking a long drink.

As she lowered the canteen, she noticed a group of wolves gathered near the edge of the training grounds. They weren't from Ronan's pack—she could tell by the way they stood, their postures rigid and guarded. Their eyes were fixed on her, their gazes sharp with interest.

"Who are they?" she asked, nodding toward the strangers.

Keaelen followed her gaze, his expression darkening. "Alphas from neighboring territories," he said. "Word travels fast, especially when it involves a cursed mate."

Selene's stomach twisted. "Cursed?"

Keaelen hesitated, glancing around as if to ensure no one else was listening. "You've got power, Selene. The kind that makes people nervous. Alphas like them—they're always looking for an edge. And you? You might just be it."

Her fingers clutched the staff tightly, discomfort forming sickly inside her. She would rather be no one's pawn, least of all theirs.

"Why would Ronan allow them so close to his territory?" she asked in a whisper.

Keaelen shrugged. "He doesn't have a choice. Alliances are fragile; he can't afford making enemies of them, not yet."

Selene turned her face back to the Alphas; they were still focused on her. One of them, a tall and broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his cheek, caught her eye and smirked.

Her heart pounded, but she wouldn't look away. They think they can intimidate her, but they're misread-all wrong.

"Come on," Keaelen said, voice pulling her attention to him. "You should get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be worse.".

Now she was not just in battle for her freedom; she was in battle for survival also in a world that saw her as nothing more than a weapon.

Selene pushed the door into her room, the scream for rest rising from each cell in her body. The faint glow of moonlight spilled across the wooden floor, and she breathed out a weak sigh. She didn't bother with the light; her legs lumbered toward the bed as if she were running through quicksand.

But the moment she entered, she halted.

He leaned casually against the wall with arms crossed, unreadable. Under his weight, the small space became suffocating, the atmosphere laden with a kind of intensity that gave goosebumps all over her skin.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded with all the firmness her tiredness could muster.

He pushed off the wall, his movements slow, deliberate. "Reminding you of something important," he said, his voice as smooth and sharp as a blade. "You owe me your life, Selene. And if you want to keep it, you'll train harder. I need you to develop your powers."

Selene's jaw tightened, but she said nothing, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Ronan stepped closer, his eyes scanning her face with a dark, predatory gleam. "And don't worry," he added, his tone dipping lower, more intimate. "I'd never find someone like you attractive."

Her breath caught in the middle, but before she snapped, he leaned down to her ear and whispered, "But I know you. You're dying for someone like me to love you. To kiss you. To make you forget every bit of your miserable existence." There was heat in Selene's chest-not the heat of longings, but the mighty fire of her defiance. Heat flared in Selene's chest—not the warmth of longing, but the fire of defiance. She turned to face him, her eyes blazing. "Someone like you doesn't know what love is. I'd never dream of it.

"Ronan's smirk widened, his amusement evident. "Is that so?"

Before Selene could utter a sound, her chin was held in Ronan's hand, and his eye-scorching gaze was leveled with hers. It was cold but wrought an unwanted shiver through her as the tension coursed like a brewing storm. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words were swallowed by his lips as he descended upon her with ferocity and unapologetic hunger.

It was a kiss, a meeting of fire and ice-unforgiving, raw, and crushingly powerful. His lips possessed hers with ferocity that drained her lungs of air and left no place to resist his command. She stood rigid, caught up in the swirling tempest of his intensity, her mind screaming at her to fight back even as her body betrayed her with the heat swirling through her veins.

He laughed softly, stepped away, and his gaze was dark and unwavering. "Remember this, Selene," he warned. "Whenever I feel like it, I will have my way with you, that is why you are here."

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving her standing in the center of the room, her breath uneven and her heart pounding with fury.