Page 20 of The Blood Moon Oath

“Or not,” Torin chimes in, his grin returning. “It’d be fun to watch her go down.”

I bristle, but I grab a piece of bread, determined to regain some control of the situation—and to learn more about this Rothgar. If he’s a sore spot, maybe he’s the key to figuring out how to escape.

For now, I’ll play their game. But only because I intend to win.

Chapter

Thirteen

TORIN

The ring is mine. It always has been, ever since we brought the tribes under our rule. No one comes here unless I say so. The air is thick with the scent of sweat, steel, and pine from the surrounding forest. The wooden posts of the training ring are jagged, splintered from years of strikes, and the ground beneath me is packed hard from countless fights. It’s a place of violence and purpose—a place where I can let loose, even during this frustrating Blood Moon truce.

I swing my axe, the heavy blade cutting through the air before biting into the dummy’s midsection. The satisfying crunch reverberates through my muscles. Another swing, this time harder, splitting the target clean in two. Sweat drips down my bare chest, the chill of the northern air doing nothing to cool me.

The Trials should be happening now. The thought churns in my head, sparking anger. This Blood Moon truce is a waste.If anything, the Trials should happen when we’re all at our strongest—when our power is at its peak. But no, instead we’re stuck, waiting, while I’m forced to keep my blades sharp on fucking dummies.

“Still sulking?”

Finn’s smooth voice cuts through my focus. I glance up to see him entering the ring, as calm and collected as always. He’s got that effortless air about him, like nothing could ever touch him, and it grates on me, even though I know he means well.

My eyes narrow as I notice who he’s brought with him. Sable.

She’s dressed for the first time in something practical—trousers and a loose linen blouse. The cold doesn’t seem to bother her, either. Most people, even warlocks, would be shivering in this weather, but not her. Her breath comes steady, her movements fluid, unaffected by the chill. I like that. It makes her feel… similar. Like she belongs in this world of frost and danger, even if she’s stubbornly fighting it.

That thought worms its way into my head, and I don’t hate it. In fact, it makes me want to see just how far that resilience goes.

The outfit clings in all the right places, and I immediately find myself imagining what she’d look like without it. My cock stirs, my body betraying me, and I grit my teeth, shifting my focus back to Finn.

“You brought the kitten,” I say, licking my lips.

“She needs to train,” Finn replies, leading her into the ring. “You’re the best at what you do, Torin. So, I figured you’d enjoy breaking her in.”

I laugh, low and rough, letting my eyes roam over her. “Oh, I’ll break her in all right. But don’t you have somewhere else to be, Ghost?”

Finn leans casually against one of the posts, his arms crossed. “Not happening. I’ll stay right here, thanks.”

I roll my eyes but grin, shaking my head. Finn’s always been like this—steady, protective. He’s more like a big brother than my actual brothers ever were. A pang of memory hits me, but I shove it down. My brothers weren’t like Finn. They were bastards, every single one of them. I don’t need to dwell on that shit now.

Instead, I turn my attention back to Sable, who’s standing stiffly, her shoulders squared like she’s ready for a fight, but her gaze stubbornly fixed just past me. She’s trying so hard not to look at me, and I find it funny, endearing even. Like a kitten arching its back, hissing at a tiger. The corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk.

She’s remembering, I can tell. Remembering how her eyes betrayed her that night when I cornered her in her room. How she fought so hard to resist but still gave in—just a little. Enough to let me see what’s underneath all that defiance. I can still feel the heat of her body pressed against mine, the way she trembled but didn’t pull away.

And I’m going to make sure she gives in again. This time, all the way. I’ll peel back every layer of her stubborn pride until she’s mine, clawing at me like the feral little thing she is. It’s a game, and I’ve always been good at games.

“Well, kitten,” I say, taking a slow step toward her, “you’re looking...functional. Finn didn’t pick out that outfit, did he? He’s not much for practical clothing.”

Her glare snaps to me, fire already sparking in her eyes. “I dressed myself, thanks.”

“Shame,” I say, smirking. “I liked the nightgown better.”

As I step closer, I reach out, brushing my knuckles lightly along the side of her cheek. Her skin is soft, warm despite the bite of the cold air. She flinches slightly, her eyesnarrowing, but she doesn’t pull away. I watch every flicker of emotion that crosses her face—anger, confusion, maybe even the tiniest hint of intrigue.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” I murmur, my voice low. Her lips part slightly, and I catch the quick rise and fall of her chest. That reaction—her trying so damn hard to hold herself together while I’m this close—it’s intoxicating.

Her nostrils flare, and she swats my hand away, glaring like she wants to set me on fire with her mind. “Don’t touch me.”

But I see it—the flush creeping up her neck, the way her breathing quickens. My grin widens, satisfaction pooling in my chest. I’ve rattled her, and damn if I don’t enjoy every second of it.

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