11. Zane

11

ZANE

She's exhausted, relentless, and fascinatingly stubborn. Sweat drips down Aria's face, stinging her eyes as her long-sleeved shirt clings to her soaked skin. The pungent scent of body odor, mixed with the occasional whiff of orange and vanilla, creates an almost dizzying contrast, masking her true essence. It makes my mouth water. It also means she's hiding something. I don't like secrets, and considering my entire pack is obsessed with her, it's up to me to uncover them.

As Aria walks away to grab a sip of water, wiping sweat from her brow, I can't shake the feeling that something's off. Her movements during our spar were too fluid, too instinctive for a beta. And that scent... there's an underlying sweetness that doesn't quite fit. I shake my head, pushing the thought aside. No, it couldn't be. But the doubt lingers, a persistent whisper I can't quite silence.

One problem—I see her appeal.

And it obliterates everything else until my whole focus is her. Until, I can't even think straight.

She isn't just attractive, she's beautiful both inside and out. She's thoughtful, watching every move I show her with a little wrinkle in her brow. Her skin is clean and clear, almost as if she glows from within.

She is also purposely dimming herself, which pisses me off. I can't help but feel a kinship with her struggle. It reminds me of the days I spent fighting my own demons, trying to find my place and purpose.

"Again," she wheezes from the mat, her voice barely audible. Despite the word, she stares at the ceiling, lying motionless. In her mind, Aria sees flashes of her past—the helplessness, the fear. Each ‘again' is a step away from that, a defiant shout against her demons. She blinks hard, pushing the memories away. Not today. Today, she becomes stronger.

Crossing my arms, I hover above her. I ended class an hour ago. It was the only class we have on Sunday mornings, and usually, this is my time to practice. If she were any other visitor, I'd feel annoyed at her insistence to practice, and yet something about Aria intrigues me, and not just because my pack is obsessed with her.

"Enough. Your body's screaming for rest, even if you won't listen to it." I crouch down at her side, fighting the urge to touch her. Her hazel eyes sweep to me. She fascinates and frustrates me in equal measure. Why does she push herself so hard, and why do I care so much? "You remind me of myself, always pushing past the limits and trying to prove something, but even the strongest need rest."

"No way." She shakes her head, dislodging pale pink strands of hair. "I'm not stopping until I nail this. Again." Her hands slap the mat, and she pushes upright, determination wrinkling her brow all over again.

I don't move, choosing instead to study her, watching as she sits there. She's stubborn, which tells me a lot. I've had this dojo for nearly five years. I've seen a lot of people come and go, and while many of my students are younger, needing something to exhaust their energy, there are a select few that are all the same.

My stomach clenches at my suspicions. Women who seek out my help are here because they have no other choice and use this to regain control. There's more to it, especially for Aria, but I'll figure her out. I just need time.

"Your reason. Now. And don't even think about lying to me," I rumble, barely holding back my impatience. She's pushing herself too far.

Her hazel eyes lock onto mine, a mischievous glint in them. "What has you all riled up?"

"At the beginning of class, I asked for your why," I remind her sharply, standing my ground as she leans closer. It takes everything in me not to get distracted by her presence. "Spit it out."

She lets out a snort before bursting into laughter and casually stretching her neck. "Oh, that again." She chuckles, effortlessly redirecting the conversation. I just glare at her, refusing to acknowledge a bullshit answer. "It's not something I like to talk about," she admits with an eye roll, her voice softer. "It's…personal."

One of these days, she is going to roll her eyes at me and I'm going to kiss her as I demand she keeps them locked on me. I feel the tension building between us, but she seems unfazed. As she faces me, trying to shift gears, I realize she's playing a game. Well, two can play at that.

"All right, stubborn one," I concede, straightening up and readying myself. "One more round. But remember, I set the rules here."

Aria mirrors my stance, determination etched in every line of her body. Her exhaustion is palpable, but there's a fire in her eyes that won't be extinguished. A part of me, the alpha part, hopes like hell she never loses that, yet another part of me wants her fire to die just a little so my pack loses interest.

I already know they want her in ways they should only want an omega.

"Feel the balance. Sense my weight," I remind Aria, my words deliberate. "Now use it against me. Your mind is your greatest weapon here."

She wipes the sweat off her brow. "I understand."

"Show me what you've got."

Aria bursts forward, her movements precise yet tense. I step aside, letting her momentum carry her past me. She stumbles but recovers quickly, frustration evident on her face.

"One more time," I order, my tone unwavering.

She charges again, this time adjusting her strategy. I grasp her arm and twist, using her own energy to flip her onto the mat. The impact echoes through the room, a grunt escaping her lips.

"Loosen up. Be water, not stone," I critique gently. "Rigidity will get you broken."

She shoots me a glare, clearly upset with herself. "I'm doing my best."

"I know," I assure her, softening my voice. "You're making progress, but remember to listen to your body. Feel the motion, don't just go through the motions."

Aria inhales deeply, nodding in understanding. She pushes herself up, each movement slower and more intentional than before. The signs of fatigue are evident in every step she takes, yet she refuses to back down.

"Once more," she whispers determinedly.

This time, when she lunges, there's a fluidity to her movements. I counter her attack, but she anticipates it, shifting her weight and using my own momentum to throw me off balance. I find myself on the mat, looking up at her with a mixture of surprise and pride.

"Better," I say, getting to my feet. "Much better."

A small smile tugs at her lips, but it's fleeting. "Again."

I shake my head, holding up a hand. "No, you're done enough for today. You need to rest." She opens her mouth to argue, but I cut her off. "Pushing yourself past your limits won't help you. You need to recover and let your body absorb what you've learned."

Aria's shoulders slump, but she nods reluctantly. "Fine."

I step closer, lowering my voice. "Monday and Wednesday—women's self-defense. I expect to see you there. This isn't a request."

Her eyes snap open, a glint of eagerness flashing in them before she hastily composes herself.

"You would really show me more?" Aria asks with barely contained excitement, her voice trembling with anticipation.

I barely restrain myself from smiling at her eagerness. Maybe I'm a bastard, but I want her around so I can learn what she's hiding, because she's hiding something.

"No woman who comes in here does it just to feel good. If they wanted that, they'd take a kickboxing class down the street," I observe coolly. "When a woman shows up at my door, it's out of desperation."

The creature before me rolls her eyes. I want to grip her dainty neck and force her to look at me.

"Not desperation." She blows her loose pink strands out of her eyes. "Maybe I just want to learn how to formally kick a guy in the dick."

Do not laugh.

"You don't need me to teach you that."

She rolls her eyes again. "I don't."

"Show up next week." I doubt she will. "And we will go from there."

I can see she isn't convinced. She nibbles on her bottom lip until the flesh begins to bruise. Naturally, my alpha instincts want to swat her hand away, so I reach behind my back to stop myself from touching her.

She's a firecracker that ignites every instinct inside me to protect her.

"Will you show me one more move?" Her hazel eyes blink up at me, desperation pouring off her in waves.

I glance at the clock that inches slowly toward lunch. "All right." I cave because despite myself, I can't help but give this beta exactly what she wants. "An easy one."

Her face lights up, and damn me, but I love seeing that I put a smile on her face.

"What do I do?" she asks, bouncing from foot to foot. "A swipe." She tries to take out my calves. "The jaw? No, oh my gosh, I once learned about a guy who could take someone down with just a hit to the neck."

Does she have an off button?

"Turn around," I command, and within a second, I have her in a bear hug. I lean down, smelling the overpowering onion scent. It instantly makes me want to sneeze, but there, underneath it all, is the sweet orange. "Tell me your why."

Did I trick her? Maybe a little. Maybe I wanted to touch her and see what all the hype was about. Liar.

"Zane," she says, struggling, but I hold her tight. She doesn't know how to get out of this position without me showing her, and I don't plan on showing her until she tells me why she's here.

Fuck, I'll even accept a because I need to protect myself.

"That's Master Zane," I whisper, letting my breath brush across her ear. Her shiver delights me, and I'm thankful I'm wearing a cup, although my erection does not fit in said cup. "To you." And only you.

Where the hell did that thought come from?

"Why are you here, Aria?" I ask again. She struggles more, trying to break free from my hold, but I'm much stronger than her, and she knows it.

"Let me go," she demands, her voice shaking with fear and defiance.

I tighten my grip on her, wanting to teach her a lesson about respect. "Not until you tell me why you're here."

She takes a deep breath before answering. "I-I…I have no other choice." She tries to elbow me in the side.

I raise an eyebrow at her response. "There now, was that so hard?"

Her breathing stutters. "Yes!"

Beneath my arms, I feel her trembling as she tries to break free from my grasp. The scent of sweat and fear fills the air between us as she gasps for breath.

"Why?" I ask, my voice softer now, almost coaxing. "Why is it so hard for you to admit that you need help?"

Something I noticed yesterday when Malachi tried to help her with her laundry is that she's stubborn, but it's also almost as though she has to prove to herself that she can do everything on her own.

Aria's eyes narrow, and for a moment, I see a flicker of pain and vulnerability. "Because needing help means I'm weak."

"No," I correct gently, loosening my hold just enough to give her some space. "Needing help means you're human. It means you're strong enough to recognize your limits and brave enough to ask for support."

She looks away, her jaw clenched. "I don't feel strong."

"Strength isn't about never falling," I say, my voice low and steady. "In here, you will learn that strength isn't just about your physical abilities, but also about your mental strength and the strength you will need to ask for help."

Onion and orange blossoms float in the air, and she holds herself utterly rigid.

"Turn your head to the left," I instruct. She sighs in relief. It's enough pushing for today. "This allows you to use my weaknesses for your benefit. This position creates a gap you will slip through. Hold your one fist in your other hand." She does as instructed. "Good, just like that." She visibly shudders at my praise, and I take note of that. "Now, simultaneously, you will bring your elbow up and drop while slamming your foot on my instep."

She gives me a little nod before she attempts to get out of my hold. She fails the first time and huffs out her irritation. From my height advantage, I can see her chewing on her tongue as she puts herself back into position again.

Once again, she does as I instruct, and once again, she fails.

"You're holding me too tight!" she yells into the dojo, her fire blazing out of her.

That's it, baby, burn me with your fire.

"Baby girl, out there, your attacker won't care about your comfort. They'll use your panic against you. So calm down and think." I chuckle darkly into her ear, then I begin to slowly drag her backward toward the locker room.

I don't just feel her heart rate pick up, I can scent her fear in the air, her breathing turning erratic. Fuck me to hell, because it turns me on.

"No." She chokes on her words and then, using her panic and fear, she tries the move again, even as I slowly drag her backward. "No."

She becomes a little frantic.

Call me a bastard, but I still hold her. This fear is her why. This right here, and I need her to realize it and work through it. She can, and she fucking will.

Why do I care? I don't.

I swear I don't.

"Again," I bark at her.

A high-pitched whine escapes her lips, but she quickly bites down on her tongue to stifle it. Desperate to escape, she struggles against me again and again, until finally going limp in my arms, defeated.

Fuck.

"Damn it, Aria." I pushed her too damn hard. Regret tries to swim in my stomach, but I squash it down. "Stay with me." I let go of her, ready to let her relax, only she falls from my grasp.

A bead of sweat rolls down Aria's temple, her face flushed an alarming shade of red. I notice her breathing becoming shallow, her movements sluggish. Suddenly, her eyes roll back, and she starts to collapse. White-hot fear pulses through my veins as I lunge forward, catching her just before she hits the mat. I sweep her into my arms, cradling her limp form. Her head lolls to the side, eyes showing only a sliver of white. How did I miss the signs? Guilt and panic war within me as I feel the heat radiating from her body.

I drop to the worn tatami mat, the familiar scent of sweat and disinfectant filling my nostrils. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across Aria's face as I cradle her in my arms. I press my hand to her cheek, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. The quiet hum of the air conditioning unit seems to mock the burning fever I feel beneath my palm.

"Aria," I whisper, panic threading through my voice as I push back the silky strands of hair clinging to her sweat drenched forehead. Her winter clothes are soaked, trapping the heat. How didn't I notice? Guilt churns in my gut as I rush her to the locker room, praying I haven't pushed her too far, and head right for the shower. I could pop her in my car and run her home or to the hospital, but something in my gut tells me not to do that.

I've worked with enough abused women to know many of them try like hell to stay out of the systems for one reason or another. Sara's face flashes in my mind—another student, another victim. I remember her panic when I suggested involving the authorities, the way she disappeared the next day, never to return. I won't make that mistake again. I won't do that to Aria without her permission.

I turn the water to cold, and holding her with all our clothing on, I step under the ice-cold spray.

Whether she realizes it or not, Aria is already part of my pack, and I protect my own.

As the icy water drenches us, I can't help but think about the times I've had to be strong for others. The memories of those I couldn't save haunt me, but I won't let Aria be another regret. She deserves to feel safe and feel valued, and I'll be damned if I'll let her fall through the cracks.

Only one problem stands in the way—whoever she is running from.

I don't want her to fall through the cracks, but I also won't allow her to hurt my pack. The alpha in me yearns to protect her, to bring her into our fold. But the leader in me hesitates. What if her secrets put us all at risk? What if accepting her means losing the omega we're destined for? The conflict tears at me, leaving me raw and uncertain. But as I hold her cooling body, I know I can't just walk away, not from Aria.