A Mate To Three Alpha Heirs Chapter 155: I Called it Quits

{Elira}

~**^**~

"Get up," Zenon repeated in his usual cold stone voice.

I groaned and flopped onto my back. "No. I live here now. On this mat. Forever."

Lennon chuckled from wherever he was. "Oh, I love this. She has already surrendered to the floor."

I wished I could give him a piercing gaze, but I was in no position to do that with this big bad guy over here.

Zenon didn’t laugh at Lennon’s remarks; instead, he simply leaned down, caught my wrist, and pulled upright in one swift motion.

I stumbled into him and caught my breath before he gently nudged back into position.

"Again," he ordered.

"Again?" I squeaked. "I already lost ten tis!"

"Eleven," he corrected.

My jaw dropped. "You were counting?"

"Focus." He ordered with a frown on his face as he shifted his stance.

I muttered sothing unflattering under my breath and raised my guard, though it was half-hearted at best.

The mont I did, he lunged at .

"Ah!" I yelped and tried to dodge, but it was too late. Zenon grazed my side with his palm, and I stumbled.

"Steady your feet."

Just then, another strike ca too fast. I ducked, but I was too slow. His hand stopped an inch from my temple.

"Fix your eyes forward."

"Moon goddess—!" I squealed, twisting just as his leg swept toward mine. I jumped—barely.

"Better," he said flatly.

"Better?" I panted, clutching my ribs. "I nearly died."

"Nearly the say cannot kill a bird," he replied, already circling again.

"What?" My nostrils flared imdiately.

Lennon was doubled over with laughter on the sidelines. "She sounds like a squeaky toy every ti you hit her!"

"Shut up!" I snapped, trying to keep my temper in check.

Rennon, of course, stayed calm. "Elira, breathe evenly. Don’t let him control your pace."

"This is easier said than done," I gritted my teeth, blocking a jab—then imdiately shrieked when Zenon spun and tapped my shoulder blade. "Ahh! See?"

Zenon’s lips almost curved. "Do you even eat at all? You move like soone who survives on crumbs."

My mouth fell open. "Excuse ? I eat plenty!"

"Not enough," he said, striking again.

I dodged late again and cursed him under my breath. "Bully."

At last, I dropped my hands entirely, chest heaving. "That’s it. I quit officially. No more training, no more stretching, no more anything. Tell Founders’ Day I died nobly."

Zenon didn’t flinch. "You are not quitting."

"Yes, I am!"

"No, you’re not."

Before I could protest again, he reached out and set my stance back into place like I was nothing more than a stubborn puzzle piece. His eyes bored into mine, calm but unyielding.

"You will keep going," he said. "Even if you hate for it."

My chest tightened. ’When was this never-ending training coming to an end?’

Zenon’s hand shot towards again, a blur I almost missed. But how could I let this continue?

Imdiately, I squealed, twisted, and bolted straight behind Rennon.

"I’m tired," I said breathlessly as I clutched Rennon’s sleeve.

Rennon blinked, looking completely startled, but he didn’t move. Then his calm eyes flicked from to Zenon.

"I think we should end it for today," he said gently. "She has reached her limit."

Zenon’s stare cut into like a blade. For a long, terrifying mont, I thought he would drag out anyway.

But nothing annoyed more than realizing that he wasn’t even panting at all. Not even a bead of sweat, not a single staggered breath.

anwhile, I felt like my lungs had packed up and left for good.

"Soon," Zenon said, his voice low and assured as he adjusted his cuffs with maddening calm, "you will be the one begging to train you."

I made a face and turned away. ’Not in this lifeti.’ All I wanted now was distance—lots and lots of distance from him and his relentless ’lessons.’

"Enough of the death glares," Lennon’s voice broke through, light and smug. "It’s ti to replenish the strength you used up."

And that was when I finally noticed him crouched by the corner, pulling plastic bags I hadn’t realized were there in the first place.

In seconds, he spread the containers across the mat, snapping lids open one after another until the air filled with the sll of roasted chicken, spiced rice, and warm bread.

I stared at the sheer amount. "That’s... a lot of food."

Lennon grinned like a fox. "Did you think I would bring all this just for you?"

Just then, he produced four spoons from the bag and handed them out—one to , one to Rennon, one to Zenon, and kept one for himself.

I released a soft sigh, relieved that the food wasn’t all mine.

Still clutching my spoon, I glanced at the spread again, my stomach giving an embarrassing growl loud enough for Lennon to smirk wider.

"Perfect timing," he said, patting the mat beside him. "Co on, sweetheart. Sit, and eat with us."

I listened and sat cautiously on the mat, watching as Lennon dug in, scooping spiced rice onto his plate. "Don’t just stare, Elira. Food is ant to be eaten, not admired."

Rennon quietly filled a plate for himself, then nudged the bread basket toward with a small, encouraging smile. "Eat before it gets cold."

I muttered a thank-you and reached for a slice, only for Lennon to swoop in and plop a piece of chicken on my plate.

"There," he said smugly. "Protein. Maybe it will stop Zenon from thinking you are starving yourself."

Across from us, Zenon ate in silence, thodical and precise as ever. When he caught glaring at him over the rim of my plate, his eyebrow arched ever so slightly—as though daring to complain again.

I stuffed a bite of rice into my mouth instead.

The flavours burst across my tongue, savoury and spiced, and an involuntary hum slipped past my lips.

For a while, the hall filled only with the sound of spoons clinking, bread tearing, and Lennon’s occasional comntary about how he, personally, had saved from collapsing on the mat tonight.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.

And with the warmth of the food and their presence surrounding , I forgot about the crimson card burning a hole in my notebook.