As I stood before the intricate gold mirror in my room, the soft morning light dancing across my face, I couldn't help but feel a pang of melancholy settle within me. Tomorrow marked the end of my extended stay in the manor, a fortnight that had slipped away with alarming speed. I had promised myself I'd return to The Dread within a week, but the comfort and camaraderie I'd found here had proved to be growing on me. And so, I'd stayed the full two weeks, savoring the warmth of my newfound friendships. Lennon and I exchanged letters almost daily, but I hadn’t seen him since the night he surprised me with a visit. My thoughts drifted to the day ahead, a packed schedule that would see me donning my armor and facing off against Zane in the training ring. The rush of adrenaline that came with sparring was a sensation I'd grown to crave, but it was the prospect of facing Zane that truly set my heart racing. Our sessions had become more bearable as the days passed, an infuriating yet entertaining blend of verbal sparring and physical combat that left me eager for more. His arrogant smirk and biting wit had initially grated on my nerves, but as the days passed, I'd come to appreciate the way he pushed me to excel, to test my limits and shatter them. I'd even managed to catch him off guard on occasion, landing a perfectly aimed kick or swift punch that sent him stumbling back. The look of surprise on his face, followed by a swift recovery and a wicked grin, was a sight to behold. I'd knocked him on his ass a time or two, the satisfaction of those fleeting victories still warm in my memory. Of course, those triumphs were always short-lived, as he'd quickly regain his footing and come at me with renewed ferocity, determined to prove himself the superior warrior. But even in defeat, I'd found a sense of pride and accomplishment. For every blow I landed, Zane would return with two, his movements a blur of steel and muscle as he pressed me to my limits. And yet, despite the intensity of our battles, the venom was slowly morphing into banter. A constant, a playful undercurrent that ran beneath the surface of our sparring. It was a game we played, a delicate dance of words and actions that left me annoyed but entertained. As I tied my hair back into a tight braid, my mind's eye conjured the image of Zane's chiseled features, his piercing blue eyes glinting with amusement as he landed a particularly clever blow. I felt a flutter in my chest, a sensation I hastily attributed to my looming departure tomorrow. I’d only be gone for two days, yet a sadness lingered there. I’d become used to seeing my new friends every day, and it felt wrong to leave them. After training I’d have to tear myself away to attend the monthly royal meeting with Thadeus. The enormity of the situation weighed heavily on my shoulders, a constant reminder that I would be surrounded by every region’s royal Sidhe. Thadeus had promised me it would be nothing but mundane political banter, and he simply wanted a comrade to share in our mutual boredom. Which I trusted was most likely the case, since every other Sidhe in the group declined his invitation to attend. But despite his words, my trepidation remained just beneath the surface. But with a deep breath, I pushed aside my worries for the upcoming meeting and instead focused on the task at hand: training. I strode into the training ring, the familiar scent of sweat and worn leather filling my lungs as I made my way to the center. Zane was already there, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. But as I approached, I noticed something was off. The usual spark in his eyes, the mischievous glint that always seemed to hint at some hidden joke, was nowhere to be found. Instead, his expression was guarded, his jaw clenched in a way that made me wonder if he was grinding his teeth. I entered the ring and we began to circle each other, our movements fluid and practiced as we sized each other up. I'd been training with Zane for two weeks now, and I knew his moves well. But today, he seemed...different. His usual fluidity was replaced by a stiff, almost mechanical precision that made me wary.

I tried to sound casual as we circled each other, waiting for the other to pounce. "Why are you brooding?"

Zane's gaze flickered, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I’m not brooding. I’m Just focused."

I raised an eyebrow. "Focused on practicing your tortured soul face?"

A small, tight smile played on his lips. "I can be focused, Ace. I'm not always a wild card, you know."

I snorted. "Oh, really? You’re choosing the day before I leave to reinvent yourself?"

Zane's smile grew, but it was a cold, calculated thing. "Just trying to make a lasting impression."

I frowned, sensing that there was more to this sudden change in him than he was letting on. "Well, consider me unimpressed."

Then I launched at him, our hands meeting in a flurry of punches and blocks. I landed a solid kick to his stomach, but he barely flinched, his eyes never leaving mine. I tried again, this time aiming for his jaw, but he dodged it with ease.

We broke apart panting for breath. "That’s your lasting impression? You’re not even trying."

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A muscle twitched in his jaw. "You want to see me try?"

We crashed again, his movements lightning-fast as he went for a series of swift jabs to my ribs. I blocked each one until he landed the last one. The force behind it a controlled power that made my breath catch. Then we broke apart again, circling each other panting.

"Is that better?" he spat, his eyes blazing.

I gritted my teeth, my own temper rising. "You’re mad at me for leaving, aren’t you?"

Zane's face twisted in a snarl. "Delivering you to Lennon for a weekend fuck fest isn’t necessarily high on the list of things I’d like to be doing with my time."

I circled him, my fists clenched. "Why is that? Are you jealous? I can let him know you’re interested."

His eyes flashed, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of a smile. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a cold, hard anger.

"Careful, he may take you up on that offer" he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I’m just a hotter, stronger version of Sully."

I scoffed, my own anger rising. "Wow. Which lasting impression would you like me to leave with? Your shitty hand-to-hand or your ability to fit that ego in this ring."

I felt the air rush out of my lungs as Zane tackled me to the ground, his body pinning mine as he glared down at me. His eyes blazed with anger. "My hand-to-hand with you isn't even a fourth of my strength, woman," he snarled, his breath hot against my face. "You're not ready to experience my full strength, little fawn. Lest I fuck up that pretty little face enough to shut that fucking mouth of yours."

I felt a surge of anger at his words, my face flushed with rage. But I wasn't about to back down. I was just getting started. "I'm sure that's not the only thing you imagine doing to my face, and I guarantee it involves keeping my mouth open," I spat back, my voice dripping with venom. "Have fun fisting that cock to the thought while Lennon enjoys this pretty little face."

His eyes turned wicked, his pupils dilating as his gaze burned into mine. I could feel the heat of his anger pressing against me, his breath quickening as he struggled to contain himself. For a moment, I thought he might actually lose his composure, that he might snap and give in to the fury that was building inside him. And then, in a swift instant, a low rattling growl burst out of him. It hummed from deep within his chest, a feral sound that dripped with masculine dominance. My body responded instinctively, heat pooling at my core with liquid need. My pheromones were released, and I could feel him harden against me. But I wasn't embarrassed. I was too angry to be embarrassed. This was just another challenge, another type of combat, one that I would certainly win. I gazed up at him, my eyes locked on his, and let out a soft, sultry purr. It was a sound that came from deep within my chest, a sound that was both feminine and feral. His body went slack, his primal beast ignited by my purr. As if all of his blood rushed to his cock, leaving none for his muscles. His elbows almost gave out as his eyes grew hooded. He tried to lift himself up, to get off of me, but I grabbed his hips and pulled him back down, digging his hardness into me. I purred louder, my voice mesmerizing him, and his hips started rocking uncontrollably in a trance. Even through his pants, Zane was enormous, but I controlled the primal urge to grind against him. I lifted my mouth to his, a mere inch away, but not yet touching.

My voice was laced with seduction, a mixture of purring and words. "And this, Zane, is only a fourth of my strength."

I could see his beast flicker in his eyes, itching to be released. I had to get out of there while I still had the upper hand. So with a swift motion, I rolled him off of me with all the strength I could muster. Then I stood up, looking down at him. He was sprawled out on the ground, his hand gripping his cock, straining against his pants and desperate for any friction. He gazed up at me, mesmerized by my purr, overcome by lust. I smiled, a triumphant smile, and turned on my heel.

"Thanks for the lasting impression." I threw out the words casually. Then I sauntered away, the vision of self-control and victory.

As I walked back to the manor, I forced myself to keep my gaze fixed on the path ahead, my feet carrying me away from the training ring and the tumultuous emotions that lingered there. But I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of Zane's piercing stare burning into my back like a brand. I could sense his restraint, his struggle to stay in control. It was a potent mixture of terrifying and exhilarating, like standing on the edge of a precipice, feeling the wind whipping my hair into a frenzy as I teetered on the brink of disaster. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through Zane's mind, what dark thoughts were swirling in those depths as he watched me walk away. Was he seething with anger, his pride wounded by my parting shot? Or was he struggling to contain a more primal urge, one that threatened to consume him whole? I could empathize with being upset about me leaving, but his delivery had left a bad taste in my mouth. The way he'd spoken to me, the venom in his voice, it made me hate him. It was as if he'd taken all the progress we'd made, all the tentative steps we'd taken towards each other, and crushed them beneath his heel. Just when I thought we were starting to understand each other, to connect on some deeper level, Zane would find a way to push us apart again. But I wasn't going to let it get to me. Not now, at least. For now, I had won. Zane would be the one left reeling, his pride wounded and his emotions in turmoil. And I had to savor that small victory, no matter how fleeting it might be. I pushed open the door to the manor, my mind already turning to the task at hand. I had a meeting to prepare for, and I couldn't afford to be distracted by Zane's antics. I took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill my lungs, and began to make my way to my room. I had to get ready, and I couldn't let Zane's words, or his actions, get in my way.