Chapter 8 The King's Lesson

• ​The training grounds of the Lycan Citadel were an open plateau suspended over a three-thousand-foot drop. The morning air was thin and sharp, smelling of ancient stone and the ozone that always seemed to trail Silas like a phantom.
• ​Anna stood in the center of the obsidian ring, dressed in high-performance leather that clung to her new, lithe curves. For eighteen years, she had been told she was weak, but as she breathed in the mountain air, she felt a hum of energy in her blood that suggested otherwise.
• ​"You're thinking about him again."
• ​Silas’s voice was a low rumble behind her. She didn't have to turn to know he was there; the "mate pull" was a warm tide washing over her skin, making the fine hairs on her arms stand up.
• ​"I'm thinking about what he'll do when Marcus arrives," Anna said, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the Silver Moon territory lay hidden by mist.
• ​"He will rage," Silas said, stepping into her line of sight. He was shirtless, his broad chest covered in the same intricate, shimmering scars that marked his status as the Alpha King. "He will try to claim you through law because he knows he can no longer claim you by force."
• ​Silas stopped inches from her, his violet eyes dark and unreadable. "But law means nothing to a Lycan. Only strength matters here."
• ​He held out a practice blade made of heavy, blunt silver. Anna took it, her hand brushing his. A spark of pure electricity shot up her arm, making her breath hitch.
• ​"Again," Silas commanded, ignoring the tension that crackled between them. "The Sun Flame is not a weapon you hold, Anna. It is a part of who you are. If you treat it like a tool, it will burn you."
• ​"I don't know how to call it," she whispered, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Last night... it just happened because I was angry."
• ​"Then find that anger," Silas growled, circling her like a predator. "Think of the floor you scrubbed. Think of the heel on your fingers. Think of the man who looked you in the eye and told you to die in the dark."
• ​Anna’s grip on the silver blade tightened. The memories flooded back—the cold water, the mocking laughter of her sister, the way Caine had looked at her as if she were a stain on his rug.
• ​"Close your eyes," Silas murmured, his voice dropping to a velvety whisper near her ear. "Don't look with your eyes. Look with your blood."
• ​He stepped behind her, his large hands settling on her waist to correct her stance. The heat of his palms seeped through the leather, sending a surge of longing through her that was almost painful. In the "Hot Encounter" stories she had overheard the pack girls whispering about, this was the moment where the hero would pull her back against him.
• ​Silas didn't pull away. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
• ​"I can feel your heart, little star. It’s racing. Is it the anger... or is it me?"
• ​Anna turned in his arms, her chest heaving. The silver blade clattered to the obsidian floor. She looked up into those iridescent violet eyes and for a second, she forgot about Caine. She forgot about revenge.
• ​"You know it's you," she breathed.
• ​Silas’s pupils dilated until his eyes were voids of pitch black. He reached out, his thumb tracing the golden Sun-mark on her collarbone. The touch was possessive, a claim that went deeper than any wolf-mark ever could.
• ​"Good," he growled, his voice thick with a hunger he wasn't trying to hide. "The bond between us is ancient, Anna. It’s not a choice. It’s destiny. But if you want to rule by my side, you must be more than just my mate. You must be my equal."
• ​He suddenly stepped back, the loss of his heat making her shiver.
• ​"Now, strike me."
• ​"What?" Anna blinked, startled.
• ​"If you cannot strike the man you love, you will never have the strength to kill the man you hate," Silas said, his expression turning back into a mask of iron. "Strike me with the fire, or we stay here until the sun sets."
• ​Anna felt a flare of irritation. He was pushing her, intentionally provoking the "Omega" instincts she was trying to shed.
• ​I am not a slave, she thought. I am not a victim.
• ​She lunged, her movements faster than any human’s, but Silas caught her wrist with effortless ease. He twisted, pinning her against his chest, his heart beating a steady, mocking rhythm against her back.
• ​"Too slow," he whispered. "Your heart is still soft, Anna. You’re fighting like a girl who wants to be saved. Save yourself."
• ​The words triggered a explosion in her mind. The image of Caine’s disgusted face in the study flashed before her. The feeling of being "less than."
• ​A low, tectonic growl started in her chest—the same sound she had made in the woods.
• ​Golden light began to leak from her fingertips. It wasn't a wisp this time; it was a roar of liquid sun. The air around them began to shimmer with intense heat.
• ​Silas let out a grunt of surprise as the heat became too much for even a Lycan King to withstand. He released her just as a shockwave of golden flame erupted from Anna’s body, scorching the obsidian floor in a perfect circle around her.
• ​Anna stood in the center of the fire, her eyes glowing with molten gold. She wasn't panting. She wasn't tired. She felt like she could level the mountain with a single thought.
• ​Silas stood several feet away, his arm scorched, a dark, predatory grin spreading across his face.
• ​"There she is," he murmured, his violet eyes filled with a terrifying pride. "There is my Queen."
• ​He walked through the dying embers, ignoring the heat, and took her face in his hands. This time, there was no lesson. He crashed his lips against hers in a kiss that tasted of fire and winter frost.
• ​It was a kiss of war. It was a kiss of victory.
• ​But as Anna melted into him, a sudden, sharp pain lanced through her head.
• ​In her mind, she saw a flash of the Silver Moon pack house. She saw Caine, his face gaunt and pale, staring at the silver coin she had sent back.
• ​He wasn't just angry. He was breaking.
• ​And for a split second, Anna felt his regret like a physical weight on her soul.
• ​She pulled away from Silas, her breath coming in short gasps.
• ​"He’s coming," she whispered. "Caine. He’s not going to wait for dawn. He’s already on his way."
• ​Silas’s expression darkened, his violet eyes flashing. "Let him come. I’ve been looking for a reason to show him what happens to a man who tries to steal the Sun."