Page 18 of Condemned to Love

He nods once and turns to leave. I let him, taking the time to hunt and cool down myself. But try as I might, I can't seem to get one little human with fiery red hair and a tight ass out of my mind. Fuck, Elowen is going to be the death of me before this war even starts.

That afternoon, I approach to see the training group already assembled. The warriors snap to attention as Nikolai steps into the center of the training grounds. His presence commands respect, and even those who had been slacking off moments before are now fully focused.

"We're starting with endurance drills," Nikolai announces. "You'll be running laps around the perimeter until I say stop."

Groans ripple through the group as I jump in, needing to stay as sharp as possible, but no one dares to question him. They set off at a brisk pace, and I join them, feeling the burn in my muscles almost immediately.

"Keep up!" Nikolai shouts. "No slowing down!"

After what feels like an eternity, he finally calls for a halt. The warriors collapse onto the ground, gasping for breath.

"Get up!" Nikolai barks. "Next drill—combat stances and quick reflexes."

He leads us through a series of complex maneuvers designed to test our agility and response times. We pair off and spar underhis watchful eye, correcting our forms and pushing us harder with each round.

"Your enemy won't wait for you to catch your breath," Nikolai reminds us sharply as he walks among the pairs. "You must be ready at all times."

By the end of the session, my body aches in places I didn't know could hurt, but there's a sense of accomplishment too. Nikolai's drills have left everyone exhausted but sharper than before.

Nikolai catches my eye as we finish up, a small nod passing between us—silent acknowledgment that we're on the right path.

Over the next few days, I keep a close watch on Elowen. Initially, skepticism gnaws at me. Humans are fragile; they break under pressure. But every time I think she'll falter, she proves me wrong.

She's relentless in training. Each morning, she's the first to arrive and the last to leave. Her commitment is unwavering. She pushes through drills with a fierce determination that I can't help but admire, even as I drive her and the others harder than ever.

My eyes often drift to her when I'm supposed to be focusing on the group as a whole. The scent of her sweat seems to engulf my senses every time I'm near her, and it's intoxicating. I catch myself imagining how she might taste, her blood hot and potent on my tongue.

I shake those thoughts away. There's no room for distraction, not now.

Still, it's difficult to ignore how much I want her. Her presence is magnetic, drawing my attention even when I'm determined to stay focused. Her wild red hair catches the light, making her stand out among the dark-clad Vrakken. And when she moves—fluid and precise—it's a struggle not to get lost in watching her.

One morning, during an intense sparring session, I push her harder than usual. The other humans have joined in, their faces strained with effort as they try to keep up.

"Come on!" I shout at Elowen as she pairs off against one of our seasoned warriors. "Show me what you've got!"

She doesn't disappoint. Her movements are swift and calculated, each strike purposeful. Sweat drips down her face, but she doesn't slow down. Instead, she channels every ounce of strength into the fight, matching her opponent blow for blow.

I can't help but be impressed by her resilience. Every time she takes a hit or stumbles, she gets back up with renewed vigor. It's clear that she's driven by something deeper—a fire that refuses to be extinguished.

When the session ends, Elowen stands tall despite the soreness I know she must feel and the exhaustion evident in her eyes. She meets my gaze with a defiant tilt of her chin.

"Good work," I tell her gruffly, trying to mask any hint of admiration in my voice.

She nods once, not needing words to convey her determination.

As I walk away to oversee the rest of the training group, I can't help but feel a growing respect for Elowen—and a burning desire that I can no longer ignore.

The training session ends, and I can barely keep my eyes off Elowen. I clench my fists, trying to shake off the growing desire that's been gnawing at me all day.

I head towards the showers, stripping off my sweat-soaked clothes and letting them fall in a heap on the floor. The cold stone under my feet is a welcome relief as I step into the shower, turning on the water and letting it cascade over me.

As the steam rises around me, I close my eyes, but the image of Elowen burns brightly in my mind. Her fierce determinationduring training, the way her body moved with such grace and power—it's all I can think about.

Damn it.

My hand slides down to grip myself, already hard at just the thought of her. I lean against the wall, letting the water wash away the grime of the day while my mind drifts to Elowen. I picture her wild red hair splayed out beneath her, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat.

I can almost hear her panting as she trains, that look of defiance in her eyes. The thought of pinning her down, feeling her body writhe beneath mine, her blood coating my tongue as she screams my name, sends a jolt of pleasure through me.

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