The training chamber wasn't built for humans.
Sprawling and brutal, it sat beneath the eastern wing of Damien's fortress, its walls lined with weapons older than time and runes that pulsed with latent magic. The floor was made of dark stone, smoothed from centuries of blood.
Ariana stood at the edge of the ring, barefoot, sweat slicked down her spine, wearing only the thin combat wrap Asra had given her.
Damien leaned against the far wall, shirtless, arms crossed, watching her.
Judging her.
The room crackled with the electricity of the bond—their blood humming in sync, their pulses matched like a war drum.
"Again," he said, voice low.
Ariana swallowed, gripping the short dagger he'd given her.
"I'm not a fighter."
"You are now," he replied.
He stepped into the circle.
The instant his boots hit the stone, something shifted.
The air tightened. Ariana's heartbeat roared in her ears.
"Come at me."
She hesitated.
Damien raised a brow.
"What are you afraid of? Hurting me? Or proving that you still belong in a cage?"
That snapped something.
She lunged.
Their bodies collided, metal clashing.
Damien moved like a shadow—smooth, fast, inhuman.
But Ariana was rage-fueled now. Not clean, trained rage—but survivor's rage. Dirty. Desperate. And very, very real.
She struck. He parried. She twisted. He grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against the wall with one hand, eyes glowing.
Her breath hitched.
Not from fear.
From the heat building between them.
"I told you," he whispered, fangs inches from her skin, "you're not weak. You're just untrained."
"I'm trying," she gasped.
He growled.
"Don't try. Take."
Then he dropped her—and she landed hard, panting.
But she smiled.
"I'm going to make you regret teaching me."
Damien crouched, lips at her ear. "Promise?"
The heat between them exploded.
Ariana tackled him, sending both of them to the floor.
She straddled his hips, dagger at his throat. His chest rose beneath her like a caged beast. Blood ran from a small nick she'd made.
She leaned forward.
Licked it.
His growl rumbled through her pelvis.
Then she said the one thing that snapped his control—
> "You belong to me just as much as I belong to you."
---
What happened next wasn't training.
It was claiming.
They didn't make love. They took each other.
On the floor. Against the wall. Her body bruised from combat, his back scratched raw from her nails.
But this time—something changed.
No fear.
No resistance.
Just fire.
When it was over, Ariana collapsed on top of him, breathless and spent.
Damien held her tight, his voice rough.
"You're not just my mate anymore."
She looked up at him.
"You're becoming my equal."