I ended up finding myself in the bowels of the estate, where the massive training center had been erected three decades before.
Thirty years prior, right before our mam had given birth to us triplets, things had been done much differently. The Guard trained outside under the full moon and in open air. They’d fought and learned the ways to protect our people without walls and restrictions.
But after a Therabus attack had killed several Lycans and injured many others, things had drastically changed.
The Therabus, a nasty species that was part of the evil Katara Otherworld faction, were nothing but an evil, cursed species of shape-shifters whose sole purpose was to prey on the weak, preferably humans. If I were to describe them in a way a human could understand, they’d fall under the succubus mythology, but they were far nastier and impossibly more dangerous.
After the attack, the Guard had become more disciplined and secretive. Protective and aggressive. And Cian, the leader of the Guard, a general in human terms, decided we needed more organization, more discipline. So the subterranean training center had been constructed and had been serving its purpose for decades.
Once at the bottom of the intricately curved and twisting staircase, through several coded doors and even more corners and turns, I stopped at the massive steel double doors that would lead to the main facility.
There was a security camera mounted in the corner, and another behind me. All angles monitored. I went to the massive keypad to the left on a panel in the wall. The process for getting inside was lengthy, and after entering a code specifically tailored for me, I waited for the infrared monitor to scan my face as well as my retinas.
There was a massive click, the state-of-the-art lock disengaging at three separate points, and then I was pushing the heavy steel open. I stepped into the sterile hallways, the door shutting behind me, the locks moving back into place.
I instantly heard the heavy pounding of training and followed the sound. The bowels of the estate had been converted and gutted and then extended underground for acres upon acres beyond that.
I continued to follow the sound, knowing where the training was being held, because I, as well as my brothers, was down here constantly. Not only did we work out daily, but Cian was training us as if we were going to be part of the Guard.
We had to know just as much, had to be just as dangerous and trained as our sentries, whether we were heirs to the throne or not.
It was a long while later before I got to another set of double doors. These opened, the scent of male sweat, testosterone, and aggression pouring out of the room. Inside, the room was large, as in Olympic-sized large. There were dozens upon dozens of Lycans working out brutally.
Males were sparring with each other on one end, some grappling on the other. There was a boxing ring set up in the far right corner, two males going at it viciously.
Cian was walking the perimeter of the room, and although I couldn’t hear him over the grunts and growls, the shouts and curses from all the other males inside, I could practically imagine his authoritative tone and alpha-laced commands as he stopped and gave pointers for each male.
As my father’s most trusted advisor, protector, and his right-hand commander, Cian had seen a lot in this world. At two hundred and fifty years old, some would say he was still relatively young in the grand scheme of things. His battle experience, the alpha dominance that poured from him daily, and his unfailing loyalty to my father and his species made him the perfect—deadly—shifter for this position.
No one paid me any attention as they continued working out and training. No one would stop me, no one but Cian, who would growl in that disapproving tone of his.
I needed this. I needed a little—okay, a hell of a lot of—aggression and some brutal hand-to-hand combat. One-on-one combat was causing the blood to roar in my veins.
And I knew somebody in this fucking room would give it to me. I could feel the juiced-up aggression surrounding me. It made my wolf hungry, pacing inside me, needing to let out all this raw energy consuming me.
“What’s a pup like ye doing here when it’s no’ yer rotation tae train?”
I gritted my teeth at the deep voice that came from behind me. I felt my spine straighten automatically, my annoyance at hearing Cian calling me a “pup” pissing me off further.
I turned around slowly and looked at him. There was no missing the disapproving look on his face. I said nothing, just stared at the enormous male.
He was built just like every other Lycan shifter at well over six and a half feet tall, heavily muscled, with broad shoulders, powerful arms, and sledgehammers for hands. But unlike most shifters, all Cian had to do was narrow his eyes in your direction, growl low, and it did the job of making you shit your pants.