An Alpha's Frustration

ROMAN

I slammed my fist into Silas's jaw, sending him staggering backward. Before he could recover, I spun and caught Gage with a brutal kick to the ribs. The sound of his grunt barely registered through the roaring in my ears.

"Again," I growled, circling my warriors like a predator.

Sweat poured down my face, soaking my bare chest. We'd been at this for over two hours, and my muscles screamed in protest. But physical pain was better than the alternative—thinking about Vanessa walking away from me at the grotto.

Silas wiped blood from his split lip. "Alpha, maybe we should—"

"I said again." My voice dropped to a dangerous octave that brooked no argument.

Both men exchanged a glance before lunging at me from opposite sides. I ducked Gage's punch and drove my elbow into his solar plexus. As he doubled over, I caught Silas's arm mid-swing, twisted it behind his back, and drove him to his knees.

"Too slow," I snarled. "If I were an enemy Alpha, you'd both be dead."