The Princess And The Alpha *Excerpt Only*

Learning Curve

Things changed in the palace, but not in the way that I had expected. I thought my parents would put me on lock down and ship away Poison without hearing my arguments. I thought there would be guards stationed on every inch of the royal property and my horses, even the old mellow champions, would be sold while I sobbed in my bedroom. and who could blame me for such assumptions. My mom was tougher than nails and impossible to sway. On the other hand, my dad was all soft and sweet, but he never joked about my safety. I mean, my parents and I did argue over how safe Poison was, but when I explained that he simply spooked at a loud guard with no horse sense they understood- at least a little bit. My father insisted that I hire a trainer for Poison, but my mother understood that he was my pride and joy, not to be tampered with by anyone else. All my parents really did was alert the guard to be more cautious, but they were hardly breathing down my neck like I had anticipated.

The biggest change that had occurred was my self defense sessions. My mother, who had been an alpha prior to finding my father, was suddenly fed up with my lack of skills outside of a dining room or dance hall which came as quite a shock, I had never seen her lay a mean hand on anyone, and she had never thought that I would need to defend myself before. But, the night that I arrived back home she had a long discussion with my father about the grim possibilities regarding my lack of combat skills. And just like that a new self defense session had been added to my daily schedule.

And the queen was my teacher.

It was hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that my mother had ever been anything other than a queen. I could only ever remember her being in gowns with glittering crowns and adoring subjects loving her to bits. But now that we engaged in a fight outside every day I was beginning to see that she was much more than a glorified figure head. For an hour everyday she would be out of her stunning dresses and in sweat pants and baggy tee shirts with her hair slicked back in a tight pony tail. She looked far from dainty, she looked fierce and I noticed immediately that she shared a similar glint in her eye with Ryan. They were both a little wild beneath the surface.

I assumed my combat training would be similar to any other training I had received in my life. I thought that it would start out with discussing theory and form extensively. Those classroom parts made me nod off incredibly quickly, but at least I would understand what was expected. Then it would gradually escalate into demonstrations and when I felt I grasped the maneuvers enough I would be allowed to preform them in a safe, forgiving environment.

But that was not how my mother ran her training sessions. Every day I would meet her outside, just in front of the guard's training compound in suitable attire. I felt incredibly comfortable in my leggings and oversized hoodie, but I also felt very exposed considering I only wore clothing like this in the safety of my own bedroom. My mother would quickly go over what today's session would entail, then we would begin sparring, in front of all the guards and staff who cared to linger and watch.

Never in my life had I laid an aggressive hand on anyone and here I was with my mother taunting me, trying to get me to strike her. For the first few days I refused to do anything of the sort, but I quickly learned that if I didn't hit her first then she was going to be more than willing to tackle me to the ground. And it wasn't gentle wrestling, trying to get your opponent to give up their power in a struggle of dominance; it was brutal fighting that gave me bloodied noses and bruises regularly. I realized very soon that I had deeply underestimated my mother.

After the first week, I could feel myself getting stronger, quicker, and smarter when it came to fighting. And though I hated the pain and the aching muscles that came after every session I did love a lot about it. I felt more empowered and strong than I had in years. I didn't feel like a frail little flower that would wilt if rain dropped onto it. And my brain was humming all day, even though my normal mind-numbing sessions. I was more engaged than I had been in years. I felt alive with purpose and strength.