KILLIAN'S POV
I can't get her out of my damn head.
No matter how many times I try to fight it, no matter how many nights I drown myself in whiskey or in the body of some nameless woman, it is always her that haunts me when I close my eyes. Layla. An omega. A servant. Someone who should be beneath me, someone I should be able to ignore. And yet the mate bond wraps its claws around my throat, choking me every second of the day.
I try to fight it the only way I know how. Through violence.
I spar with one of the warriors in the courtyard. My knuckles are already bloodied from the last fight, but I welcome the pain as the sword slips and my fist slams into his jaw. The warrior stumbles back, shaking his head.
"Again," I snarl, wiping the blood off my split knuckle against my thigh.
"Alpha, you're going to break your hand," another warrior mutters nearby as he watches.
"Then I'll fight with the other one," I snap, lunging forward again.
