Page 58 of Bonds of Pain
I nod, watching his movements carefully.
“Instead,” he continues, “you twist toward their thumb—the weakest point of their grip—while simultaneously stepping into their space rather than away.”
He demonstrates in slow motion, his movements graceful despite his injured shoulder. When he releases me, I flex my wrist, memorizing the sensation.
“Your turn,” he says, nodding toward Cillian. “Try it on him.”
Cillian extends his hand with a sigh. “Just remember I need this arm to function tomorrow.”
I step forward, allowing him to grasp my wrist. His fingers are cool against my skin, and I’m momentarily distracted by how different his touch feels from Poe’s or Ares’s—lighter, more precise. The bond between us hums softly, like background music.
“Focus,” Poe instructs, noticing my hesitation. “Remember—twist toward the thumb, step in, not away.”
I take a breath and execute the movement. It doesn’t work. Cillian’s grip remains firm, his eyebrow raised slightly in challenge.
“You’re thinking too much again,” Ares calls from where he’s dabbing blood from his nose. “It needs to be instinctive. Faster.”
“Try again,” Poe says. “This time, don’t telegraph your movement.”
Cillian releases and re-grips my wrist. I feel a flicker of something through our bond—encouragement? I can’t tellwhether he wants me to succeed or fail, or if he just wants this all to be over and done so he can go to bed blissfully alone for once.
This time, I move without hesitation. I twist sharply toward his thumb while stepping into his space. His grip breaks, and I feel a flash of triumph—until he counters by catching my other wrist in a smooth motion.
“Not bad,” he says quietly. “But in an actual fight, your opponent won’t just let you go.”
“That’s enough for one lesson,” Poe interjects, stepping between us. “The point is for her to learn the basics, not master combat in one night.”
Ares lumbers over, his nose still bleeding despite his efforts to stop it. “So, who wins the teaching competition? My move was clearly superior.”
“I did flip you over my shoulder,” I point out to Cillian as he considers. “That seems more impressive than breaking a grip.”
“Both techniques have their place,” Cillian says diplomatically. “The wrist break is more practical for everyday situations. The shoulder throw requires more specific circumstances.”
I turn to him, hands on my hips. “You’re supposed to be judging, not analyzing. Pick one.”
Something flickers in Cillian’s ice-chip eyes—amusement, perhaps? “If I have to choose, I’d say Poe’s technique was more effectively taught. Maya executed it with better form, even if she didn’t fully succeed.”
Ares makes a disgusted sound. “Of course you’d pick his. You’ve always favored finesse over power.”
“I favored the better teacher,” Cillian corrects. “Your instructions were unclear, and you spent more time adjusting her stance than explaining the mechanics.”
“That’s because stance is fundamental?—“
“Enough,” Poe interrupts, a satisfied smile playing at his lips. “I win. Which means Maya sleeps in my room tonight.”
Ares looks genuinely disappointed. “Fine. But this isn’t over. Tomorrow, I’m teaching her how to break a choke hold on you, and I guarantee you’ll appreciate the technique after you wake back up.”
“Tomorrow,” I agree, suddenly exhausted by the entire ordeal. The adrenaline from earlier has faded, leaving me drained.
Poe places a gentle hand on the small of my back. “Let’s go. You look ready to collapse.”
As we turn to leave, I catch Cillian watching us, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I think he might say something, but he simply nods once before turning away.
I follow Poe up the stairs, leaving Ares and Cillian behind in the basement. Despite the absurdity of how this night unfolded, I feel oddly accomplished. I’ve learned two defensive moves, stopped a potentially dangerous fight, and created my own solution to Logan’s manipulative command.
Most importantly, I’ve seen firsthand how these Alphas operate—their competitiveness, their pride, their need to dominate. Knowledge I can use.
As we reach the top of the stairs, Poe glances back at me with a small smile. “You did well tonight.”
