Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

168 Chapter 168

168 Chapter 168

Seraphina’s POV T

The gym smelled like sweat, blood, and something that might have been fear.

| stood in the doorway at 5:55 AM, my stomach churning with equal parts terror and desperate determination.

This was it. My first day of

training for underground fighting.

The space was nothing like the pack training facility. No clean mats, no organized equipment, no cheerful

teammates encouraging each

other. Just concrete floors stained with God knows what, heavy bags hanging from rusted chains, and a boxing

ring that looked like it

had seen actual deaths.

“You're early,” Rico’s voice cfrom behind me. “Good. Shows discipline.”

| turned to face him. He looked different in workout clothes-leaner, harder, more dangerous. Like he could

actually teach someone how

to hurt people.

“Where is everyone?” | asked.

“Coming.” He checked his watch. “You'll meet the team at six. Fair warning-they’re not gonna be happy about

you.”

“Why not?”

“Because you're a woman. And because you're taking up space they think belongs to them.” His expression was

matter-of-fact. “They're

gonna test you. Push you. Try to make you quit.”

My hands clenched into fists. “I won't quit.”

“We'll see.”

At exactly six AM, they started arriving.

Men. All men. Big, brutal-looking men with cauliflower ears and scarred knuckles and eyes that had seen too

much violence. They looked

atlike | was a joke. An insult.

“The fuck is this?” The first one through the door was massive-easily six-foot-four, built like a tank. His nose had

been broken so many

times it barely looked human anymore. “We running a daycare now, Rico?”

“Flint, meet Sera. Sera, meet Flint.” Rico’s voice was calm. “She’s training with us.”

Flint’s laugh was harsh and ugly. “Training? You serious? She looks like a stiff wind would break her.”

More men filed in. Eight total, not counting Rico. All of them staring atwith varying degrees of amusement

and contempt.

“Maybe she’s lost,” another one said. His accent was thick, Eastern European maybe. Scars crisscrossed his

shaved head like a road map.

“Yoga stuis three blocks down, little girl.

Heat flooded my cheeks. “I'm not lost.”

19:11

1/6

168 Chapter 168

You will be,” Flint said, cracking his knuckles with sounds like gunshots. “First tsomeone hits you for real”

Rico clapped his hands once, sharp and commanding. “Alright, ladies. Enough chatting. Tto work.”

The warm-up was brutal.

Burpees until my legs shook. Push-ups until my arms gave out. Sprints across the gym floor until I thought my

lungs would burst. And

through it all, the men watchedstruggle with barely concealed satisfaction.

“Con, princess!” Flint shouted as | collapsed after my third set of burpees. “My grandmother moves faster

than that!”

| pushed myself up. Did five more. Collapsed again.

“Pathetic,” someone muttered.

But | got up. Again. And again. Until the warm-up was finally over and my entire body was screaming for mercy.

“Sparring,” Rico announced. “Flint, you're with Sera.”

Flint’s grin was terrifying. “With pleasure.”

In the pack training facility, Marcus, my former trainer-had been tough but fair. He'd pushed us hard but never

tried to hurt us. Never

wanted us to fail.

This Flint was different.

He catlike | owed him money. Fast, brutal, with no mercy or restraint. His first punch caughtin the

ribs before | could even

think about blocking.

The air left my lungs in a rush. | stumbled backward, gasping.

“Block!” Rico shouted from somewhere far away. “Get your hands up!”

Flint didn’t wait forto recover. He closed the distance with two steps and drove his fist toward my face.

| managed to get my hands up this time. His knuckles connected with my forearms hard enough to make my

bones ache.

Then he swept my legs.

| hit the concrete floor so hard | saw stars. Before | could move, his weight was on top of me, his forearm

pressing against my throat.

“Tap out,” he growled.

| couldn’t breathe. Couldn't think. Panic clawed at my chest.

“TAP OUT!”

My hand slapped the floor twice. He releasedimmediately and stood up, leavinggasping on the concrete.

“Twenty seconds,” someone said. “New record.”

Laughter echoed through the gym. Harsh and mocking.

“Get up,” Rico ordered.

19:11

168 Chapter 168

| couldn’t. My body wouldn't cooperate.

“I said GET UP!"

Something in his voice mademove. | rolled onto my side, then my hands and knees, then finally to my feet.

Everything hurt. My ribs,

my arms, my throat where Flint’s forearm had pressed.

“Again,” Rico said.

“What?”

“You heard me. Again.”

This tlasted thirty seconds before Flint hadin a chokehold. | tapped out before | passed out.

The third time, | lasted almost a minute.

By the tenth round, | was barely conscious. Blood dripped from my nose. My right eye was swelling shut. Every

breath felt like someone

was stabbing my ribs.

“Enough,” Rico finally called.

| collapsed to my knees, grateful it was over.

“Not bad for a first day,” Flint said, and there might have been the tiniest hint of respect in his voice. “Most

people quit after round three.”

The next three weeks were hell.

Every morning, | dragged myself to the gym at six AM. Every morning, the men were waiting with their cruel

jokes and crueler fists.

Every morning, | got beaten, bruised, bloodied.

But | kept showing up.

“Your defense is shit,” the Eastern European guy toldafter knockingdown for the fifth tin one

session. “You leave yourself

open constantly.”

“Then teach me,” | gasped from the floor.

He looked surprised. “Why should 1?”

“Because if you don’t, I'll keep being easy to beat. And where's the fun in that?”

He stared atfor a long moment. Then, incredibly, he laughed.

“Alright, little fighter. | show you.” He helpedto my feet. “Keep your elbows tight to your body. Like this.

Hands high. Chin down.” 1

It wasn’t much. But it was something.

Slowly, painfully, | started learning. Not just how to take hits-though God knows | was getting plenty of practice

at that—but how to

throw them. How to read an opponent's body language. How to find openings and exploit them.

19:11

Bil)

168 Chapter 168

“Hit him in the throat,” Rico instructed one day as | sparred with a newer guy. “Stomp on his instep. Gouge his

eyes if you have to?

Back at the pack, Marcus would have been horrified. “We fight with honor,” he always said. “We protect each

other, even in combat.”

But these men didn’t care about honor. They cared about winning. And slowly, sickeningly, | realized | was

starting to think the same

way.

The bruises becconstant companions. Purple and yellow and black, spreading across my ribs, my arms, my

face like abstract art. | stopped looking in mirrors because | didn’t recognize the woman staring back.

The grocery store shifts bectorture of a different kind.

| didn’t listen to Rico. | couldn't quit. Couldn't give up that tiny, pathetic paycheck, even though Rico had given