THE BREEDER'S GAMBIT

CHAPTER SIX

The first time I tried to seduce Aiden, I could almost taste the desperation on my lips. It wasn’t about desire, not really. It was survival. It was a power play, a way to gain control of a situation that felt increasingly out of my hands. I thought if I could get close to him, make him want me, I’d finally be safe. I’d be protected.

But his resistance threw me off balance in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

His gaze was steady, calm, and there was no flicker of desire in it. His lips didn’t curve into the smile I expected, the one that would have made me feel validated. No, he looked at me as if I were a puzzle—something he couldn’t quite figure out, but not for lack of trying. His eyes, sharp and calculating, saw through me. Every shield I put up, every mask I wore to protect myself, seemed to melt in his presence.

And it unnerved me more than anything else ever could.

“Stop pretending, Caitlyn,” Aiden had said that night, his voice so low and certain. “You don’t have to do this.”

The words were like a punch to the gut. How had he known? How did he see past the walls I had so carefully constructed around myself?

I wanted to fight it, to keep pretending I wasn’t shaken, but something in his voice—something in his eyes—had unsettled me in ways I couldn’t explain.

This wasn’t about power. It wasn’t about winning. Aiden was not the kind of man who would take advantage of a weakness. He was different.

And it was that difference, that gentleness, that made me feel more exposed than I’d ever been in my life.

The days blurred together as I trained with his pack. Every movement felt like an eternity. The pain was constant—muscles burning, bones aching, sweat streaming down my face, but there was no time to stop. No mercy. No rest.

They didn’t trust me. The women, especially those who had been through the same brutal training, who had endured the same hardships I had but had somehow survived. They looked at me with suspicion, eyes narrowing whenever I made a mistake. Some were kind, offering me the smallest of gestures, a word of encouragement here, a hand to help me up there but most watched me like a potential threat, sizing me up as if waiting for the moment I would crack.

And I would crack. That much was certain. I wasn’t like them. I hadn’t been forged in the fires of pain and strength the way they had. I was soft. I was broken in ways they could see but didn’t care to understand.

But I couldn’t afford to let them see that.

I pushed myself harder, digging into every ounce of strength I had left. There were moments when I could feel the old Caitlyn, the scared, broken girl—trying to resurface, but I fought it back, forcing myself to stand tall when all I wanted to do was collapse. The trainers, Aiden’s pack members, didn’t care. They didn’t baby me. They didn’t pity me.

They just fought me. Over and over again.

There was no easing into it. They didn’t care that I had no experience. The first few days had been a blur of bruises and blood. My body was battered from every direction, arms aching from blocking strikes, legs bruised from missed kicks, my face stinging from the times I was knocked to the ground. I kept getting back up, each time more determined than the last.

I couldn’t let them see my weakness.

“You’ll need to do better,” one of the women, Mara, said, her voice laced with disapproval. She was tall, with a cold expression that rarely softened. Her body moved with precision, each strike calculated and brutal. I hated her, in a way. She reminded me too much of myself, the parts of myself I hated.

I gritted my teeth and nodded, sweat pouring down my face. “I’m trying.”

“You’ll need more than trying to survive here,” she shot back, pushing me into a sparring position once again. “You want to belong here, Caitlyn? Prove it.”

I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. I lunged at her, trying to strike, trying to show I wasn’t the weakling they all thought I was. But Mara was too fast, her movements fluid as she dodged, countering with a swift punch to my side. I gasped, the air knocked out of me, but I didn’t fall.

I didn’t fall this time.

I had learned that much.

The men didn’t make it any easier. They never approached me, not unless it was for a quick, painful spar.

Their gazes were colder than the women’s, their expressions unreadable. The only reason I could see for their avoidance was Aiden’s claim. He had made it clear I was off-limits, a fact that seemed to shield me from their attention. But I knew deep down that if Aiden’s claim ever faltered, even for a second, they would test me. They would want to see if I was strong enough to withstand them.

I felt their eyes on me, even when they weren’t looking. Their gaze was a quiet storm that followed me everywhere, heavy and demanding. I knew they were waiting for me to crack. To show them I wasn’t fit for this life.

But I was determined to prove them wrong.

And then there was Aiden.

He didn’t watch me like the others did. He didn’t look at me with suspicion or challenge. His eyes were always steady, always calm, but there was a quiet understanding in them. I couldn’t explain it, but there was something in the way he looked at me, something that made my insides twist. I didn’t know what it meant, and I didn’t want to.

I thought I could use him. I thought I could seduce him, make him see me as more than just the scared girl trying to survive. But the more I tried, the more I realized he wasn’t the kind of man who could be manipulated. He was far too perceptive for that.

And it made me feel small. Vulnerable.

Aiden never took advantage of my attempts. He didn’t push me away, but he didn’t encourage me either. His restraint, his quiet patience, only left me more confused. I had never met a man like him before. A man who wouldn’t take what was offered, who wouldn’t play into my games.

He didn’t want to use me.

It made my head spin.

A week later, after hours of training, I collapsed onto the grass outside the camp, exhausted, bloodied, and bruised. The air was thick with the scent of earth and sweat, and for the first time, I could feel the weight of it all—the weight of this life, this pack, the constant pressure to be something I wasn’t.

I didn’t belong here. Not yet.

The women had slowly started to warm up to me, but only just. Some of them, like Mara, still watched me with distrust, but there were others who offered small gestures of kindness. Talia, a younger woman with blonde hair and sharp eyes, had been teaching me some of the footwork, showing me ways to improve my balance. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

I hadn’t realized how much I needed it.

I felt a shadow fall over me as someone approached. I didn’t need to look up to know it was Aiden. His presence was always unmistakable, like a storm on the horizon, ready to break.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said, kneeling down beside me. His voice was low, concerned, but it held none of the harshness I had come to expect from others.

I didn’t respond immediately. I didn’t have the energy to argue. But I could feel his gaze on me, soft and probing, as if he were trying to understand me without speaking.

"You're doing better," he said after a long pause. “But it’s okay to let your guard down every once in a while.”

I wanted to scream at him, to demand why he couldn’t just let me fight my own battles. But I didn’t. I simply closed my eyes and let the quiet settle over me.

For the first time since I had arrived, I didn’t feel like I was constantly fighting for control.

For the first time, I was just... exhausted.

And that exhaustion brought with it a strange sense of peace. A peace I hadn’t known I needed until now.

But I knew, deep down, that peace wouldn’t last long. Because the moment I showed any weakness, they would come for me. And I would be forced to make a choice.

To fight—or to fall.

And that, more than anything, terrified me.