Page 28 of Alpha's Redemption

“Valen!” I mumble against his mouth, and he chuckles. He’s still laughing when he lets me go and tugs me along as Kalen rushes in quickly.

There’s a park at the other end of the arena where he’s taking the children to play so they don't have to watch. They could, because I was training at their age, however, a challenge is vastly different. It isn't screwing around, it’s blood, claws, teeth, and fur—messy and terrifying. So when Valarian stated he wanted to come, we arranged for Kalen to watch them at the park and bring them over after.

“How are you? Are you still set to leave tomorrow?” Valen asks his father. Kalen stops and pecks my cheek and hugs his son.

“Yep. Leaving at 7 a.m.,” Kalen says and Valen nods.

“Where are you going?” I ask him.

“To pick up some supplies that got lost in transit for the hotel,” Kalen says with a shrug, then quickly hugs me. “Knock his ass out, love. Now, where are these munchkins of mine?” Kalen says, looking around for the kids. He waves toward the girls before rubbing his hands together and heading over to them. “Who wants to race Pop to the park over there?” he says, pointing off toward the other end.

The three kids look where he points before running off and Kalen chases them. Valen laughs at his father who could easily outrun them but lets them win.

Once they’re gone, I turn around to face the pit. The place falls silent when my father steps over the barrier and removes his shirt, handing it to my mother. I suck in a breath and Valen grips my shoulders giving them a squeeze.

“Breathe, you got this,” he says, yet my eyes are on my father. Images of training with him when I was a kid skip through my head—when I regarded him as my hero. But now, I’m no longer a little girl and he’s no longer larger than life. Despite that, though, his size and physique remain the same.

This man is a giant, and powerful. I swallow down the dread, remembering when he accidentally broke my femur in training when he punched me a little too hard. One punch and he snapped it like it was a chicken bone.

I shake the memory away before tugging my shirt off. I have a sports bra underneath—my shirt would only give him something to grab a hold of. My mother stands beside Nixon, looking at us nervously. As I’m about to walk onto the field, I feel a hand grip my arm. I stop when I see it’s Ava. She’s staring at me.

“Dad’s left knee is bad, he’s had two surgeries on it. Watch his hooks, but if it comes to his wolf, back out! I’ll take your place. I’m not good at hand to hand but,” she glances at our father nervously.

It’s clear she’s terrified of my father, she always hated training and it scared the crap out of her. Ava isn’t violent by nature, she wasn’t trained the way I was; she was Daddy's Princess while I was his warrior.

“Ava, you don’t have to get in there, and you aren’t going to,” I tell her and she swallows again, though I know she would get in there if I asked and would take a beating happily for me. A beating isn’t needed here though—victory is, so I know this is on me.

Ava grabs me and hugs me.

“I know!” she whispers, and I pull away from her to look at her. “I know about the you-know-what. You back out or I’ll–” she looks at Valen standing over at the sidelines.

“Who…” I ask, though I already know. “Macey and Zoe.”

“You can’t shift,” Ava continues.

“I don’t need to, I can beat him in this form. I was born for this, Ava. Trained in his image for this. I haven’t forgotten. I will win,” I reassure her.

“You better. If not, stand down. Your people will understand, they won’t see it as a failure,'' she says.

“No, but I will. You haven’t been with us as long, you haven't seen the half of it. This will change everything. Now, I am asking you, as a sister, to keep your mouth shut.”

She presses her lips in a line and nods. “Left knee. And try to keep on his right side, his vision isn’t the best in that eye anymore. Beat him before the shift. If you’re in trouble I’m telling,” she says, walking off, and I sigh before turning to face my father.

Once inside the circle there’s no backing out. My father stands in the center waiting, arms folded, to see if I’ll step in.

“Back out, Evie, you don’t want to do this,” Dad says to me and I shake away the shudder that ripples up my spine as his aura washes over me, then step inside the circle.

He curses and shakes his head but takes a stance. I move closer and further to his right, watching how he shifts a little more in that direction, and I realize Ava was right—his vision on that side isn’t the best. He growls and I see his eyes go to her off at the side. She waves to him before he turns back to face me again. Nixon calls out to him but my father ignores him. The whistles go off while we size each other up.

When he doesn’t charge at me or make a move, I know I’ll have to be the one to initiate the fight.

So I do.

He blocks my punch easily and ducks under my arm which leaves him an opening to my ribs, but he doesn’t take it. Nixon yells at him to fight, but Dad goes on the defensive. After a few minutes it’s starting to irritate me. I catch his left knee three times but he never swings back. When I try to kick him again, he catches my foot, putting me in a bad position, and growls angrily at me.

“Submit!" he snarls at me before punching me in the thigh. I groan, feeling it bruise, and stagger back when he lets me go. My eyes go to the huge, digital display—4 minutes before we will be forced to shift.

“No!” I growl.

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