Chapter 6 Moonlight Combat

[Nyx]

Lysander stood just inside the doorway, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the hallway light. He'd removed his formal jacket, standing now in a fitted black shirt that did nothing to hide his warrior's physique. His scent—forest after rainfall mixed with steel—drifted toward me, making Sylva stir with interest again.

Shut up, I told her silently.

I didn't say anything, she replied, her amusement obvious.

"Let's get something straight," I said, leaning against the windowsill where moonlight outlined my profile. "This marriage is my father's command, and we're both being forced to accept it. But I won't let it ruin my life."

I lifted my chin defiantly, watching his reaction. "I have terms."

Lysander's eyebrow rose slightly, but he made no move to interrupt. The moonlight caught the amber flecks in his eyes, making them appear almost golden.

"In public, we present as a united couple," I continued, tapping my fingers nervously against the windowsill. "We maintain appearances for my father's sake and the pack's stability. But privately," I paused, making sure he understood the importance, "we don't interfere in each other's lives."

His expression remained unreadable as I pressed on.

"I know you probably have girlfriends or... arrangements," I said, looking directly into his eyes. "You can continue them as long as you're discreet. Don't get caught, don't embarrass me publicly, and we won't have problems."

My finger tapped faster against the window frame, betraying the tension I was trying to hide. The vulnerability of offering these terms made my skin crawl, but establishing boundaries felt like the only control I had left.

[Lysander]

I maintained my composure as I listened to Nyx, though her assumption nearly made me laugh aloud. Girlfriends? The notion was absurd. Since four years ago, my heart had belonged to no one else. Four years of watching from afar, of waiting. And now, here she stood before me—through circumstances neither of us would have chosen—but fate had finally given me my chance.

I wouldn't tell her this, of course. A warrior never reveals his vulnerabilities, and my feelings for her were perhaps my greatest weakness. Knowledge is power, and this particular knowledge would give her too much leverage over me. Better to keep her guessing, to maintain the upper hand.

"I have no girlfriends, nor do I plan to have any," I replied evenly, carefully keeping any emotion from my voice. This was the art of concealment—hiding the depth of feelings that had grown within me over four long years. "Since we are to become mates, I expect not only proper behavior in public but also loyalty in private. No flirting or developing relationships with other men."

I watched her eyes widen with shock, the gray-blue color darkening with indignation. The moonlight cast half her face in silver light, the other in shadow—a perfect visual metaphor for the contradiction she presented. Proud yet vulnerable. Defiant yet trapped.

"You—" she sputtered, clearly stunned by my counter-demand. "You dare make demands of me? Do you know why my father chose you? Because you're an obedient Gamma who wouldn't question his decisions. Apparently, he misjudged you."

"I am a warrior," I answered calmly, "not a puppet."

"Is that so?" Nyx challenged, stepping forward with fire in her eyes. "Then prove it to me." She gestured toward the open space in the center of the living room. "If you can defeat me in combat, I'll accept your terms. But if I win, we play by my rules."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her proposal. "Are you certain this is how you want to settle things?"

"Unless you're afraid of testing yourself against Alpha blood," she taunted, already moving toward the clearing and assuming a fighting stance. "Or perhaps Gamma warriors only know how to bow to Alphas, not face them."

I removed my jacket deliberately, laying it across a nearby chair. This wasn't merely a physical contest but a battle of wills. As Moonblade's finest warrior, I had no doubt I could best her, but deep down, I hoped this fight might show her my true worth beyond the arranged marriage.

I took my position opposite her, studying her stance. Her form was excellent—but I could see the telltale signs of neglected practice. Her balance was slightly off, her guard a fraction too high.

Nyx struck first, a swift side kick aimed at my ribs. I pivoted away, using the momentum to catch her wrist and pull her toward me, but she twisted free with impressive agility.

"Your reflexes are still sharp," I commented, "but your technique lacks refinement. You've been neglecting your training."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "Don't presume to lecture me."

"As Alpha's daughter, you should know better," I continued, easily dodging her next strike. "Leadership isn't just about bloodlines and politics. True Alphas must be strong enough to command respect. How will you lead warriors if you can't match them in combat?"

"Shut up!" she snarled, her attacks becoming more aggressive but less controlled.

For the next few minutes, we moved like wolves dancing in the moonlight. Each attack, dodge, and counter was executed with precision, but I could see the patterns in her attacks, the Academy-taught sequences that had grown rusty with disuse. Her natural talent was evident, but so was her lack of consistent practice.

I bided my time, letting her expend energy while I studied her movements. Then, seeing my opportunity, I swept her legs with a clean, decisive move. As she lost balance, I followed through, pinning her to the floor with her wrists secured in my hands.