Feel It Still
I stretch into Warrior II, my gaze fixed beyond my fingertips as if I can already see the victory in tonight’s match. The dim winter sun warms my skin, a gentle breeze playing along the edges of our open air garden, and there’s a tang of anticipation in the air. Fitz mirrors my pose to my left, while Chess holds a perfect Tree Pose to my right.
I love when the guys do yoga with me—even if some are less than graceful about it.
“Seriously, Baby Girl,” Fitz chuckles, his voice carrying easily over the tranquil space between us, “Zhuǎn xīng U is all about their quantum processors and lab experiments. Their team is going to be as intimidating as a floppy disk. Pasty skin and spaghetti arms will abound as you drill them into the dirt.”
His teasing draws a ripple of laughter from me, the sound mingling with the rustle of leaves above. It’s comforting, this routine, before the storm of competition. But despite the jests, my muscles coil with a readiness that comes from being more than just your average bunny shifter. I can’t have the blue lightning escape unbidden in large, crowded stadiums or someone will have me locked up for certain. So if these guys happen to bring some ridiculous ringer like the state school did at Cappie, I have to be centered and mindful, not blindly raging.
Chess shakes his head, a frown creasing his brow as he transitions into another pose with fluid Giselle. “Underestimating them would be a rookie mistake,” he says, and even without looking, I can tell his gaze is thoughtful. “We should prepare for every possibility. As you well know, Fitz, computer geeks and scientists are good at math. They didn’t make a movie about math and sports for no reason.”
I roll my shoulders, easing the tension that starts to build at his words. Deep down, beneath the stretches and the laughter, I know he’s right. Experience might not have introduced me to the specifics of Zhuǎn xīng’s team, but it has taught me that underdogs often have the sharpest bite. And with the amount of enemies I have floating around? Assuming that no one is going to mess with the results of matches is a sucker bet. I’m smarter than that, even if I’m not a genius like those preds.
“You’re probably right,” I concede, shifting into a Downward Dog, “but money-balling isn’t going to win matches by itself. The choices made during the match and the skill set of their competitors are a greater predictor of success. If they don’t have team members who can match my speed, strength, or training, their equations won’t help them. ”
Fitz grins crazily as he comes over to smack my ass. “Algebra’s got nothing on this ass.”
I giggle, trying not to fall over as he gropes me and Chess sighs heavily. “How can I argue with that ?”
“You definitely shouldn’t,” I reply, giving him a smirk over my shoulder. “Do you really think they’ll have burly jock girls attending a techie school? It seems unlikely.”
The cheetah’s voice is as sharp and precise as his warrior poses. “Don’t let appearances deceive you. Kartika Dewi doesn’t train amateurs,” he warns, fixing Fitz with a look that could curdle milk. “If she’s coaching Zhuǎn xīng, they’re going to be a force to reckon with.”
I exhale slowly, sinking deeper into my stretch as unease curls in my stomach. “Great. Another big name I don’t know that’s out to get me,” I mutter, the memory of the State school match fiasco flashing before my eyes—‘scholarship’ players who turned the game on its head. “Has Zhenga said anything about their girls’ team, Fitzy?” I ask, hoping for some insider knowledge.
Fitz shrugs, a nonchalant gesture that belies the serious undertone of our conversation. “She’s been weirdly tight-lipped lately. Something’s up, but she doesn’t seem to be in the mood to share, and Felix would be a better choice to push her. She barely tolerates me—something about my ‘jackassery’ sets her off.”
I can’t imagine why my ADHD mate’s ping-ponging between psycho and clever as fuck would bother the lioness.
My brow arches as I consider his words. Why would Coach Z be preoccupied and secretive? I tuck away the thought as another item on my growing list of concerns. “Focus, Dolly,” I remind myself, trying to push aside distractions. “You’ve got a match to win.”
But my white knight’s warning lingers in my mind as we continue stretching, a subtle reminder that in the game of predators, it’s never just about strength or speed.
It’s about outsmarting the opponent, and that takes a cunning mind—no matter how high their IQ is.
Aubrey’s arrival snaps me out of my reverie. He looks like he’s been dragged backward through a hedge maze, exhaustion evident in every line of his face. I don’t think he’s slept since the Captain and Raina brought our newest piece of the puzzle and it shows. I’ve tried to reason with him, and so has Rennie, but the stubborn lizard refuses to hear it. He’s determined to solve this thing, come Hell or high water.
“Still no luck with the scroll?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
He shakes his head, his frustration palpable. “That damn key symbol is hiding in plain sight, but it might as well be invisible. I’m fluent in over thirty languages—even some dead ones—and this is eluding me. My linguistics skills aren’t helpful in the slightest. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
“If anyone can do this shit, it’s the icy-Spay alamander-say,” Fitz says as he looks at the dragon upside down and gives him a thumbs up.
“Pig Latin is not… Fuck it; I’m too tired to spar with you, Fitzgerald.”
I watch him closely, a furrow in my brow as he plops onto a chair that might give way any second. The furniture here is definitely not constructed with dragons in mind, and he’ll lose his everloving shit if it collapses under him.
“Ready for tonight’s match?” he finally asks me when our gazes meet.
“Chessie thinks we might have underestimated Zhuǎn xīng,,” I admit, relaying the gist of our earlier discussion. “They have some big wig coach I’ve never heard of, and Fitzy thinks they could be using sabermetrics to analyze their matches. ”
Aubrey’s frustration deepens into a frown, the lines around his eyes tightening. “The last thing we need is more surprises, snacksize,” he murmurs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I wonder if we can do some searches on their past results and?—”
“I keep telling her that no string bean Dew drinker is going to have a fucking chance with our girl. C’mon, Grumpy Gecko, back me up!” Fitz kicks his legs up until he’s standing on his head, and Chess smothers a laugh as his legs pump in the air.
All that does is get a snarl and a puff of smoke rings from the big guy.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper, infusing my voice with confidence I’m not entirely sure I feel. “We’ve got this. And if things get hairy out there, I know you’ll all be watching. Ready to jump in.” With a reassuring smile, I close the distance between us and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. My fingers graze the solid wall of his chest, feeling the steady heartbeat beneath my palm.
He really is a big softie at heart, despite his grumpy schtick.
Aubrey’s frown eases, but a shadow still lingers in his eyes as he nods, accepting my reassurance. He turns slightly, fixing Fitz with a dark look that seems to pierce straight through the tiger shifter’s nonchalance. The tension is palpable for a moment until Fitz’s booming laughter breaks it like a thunderclap.
“Lighten up, you Serious Skink,” Fitz chides, his grin wide and wild. “Dolly’s got more backup than a pop star on a global tour. We’ll have her covered from every angle.” He flexes his muscles playfully, his bulk rippling with implied power. “Besides, you know I’ve been dying to teach some fuckwits a lesson, so if they try anything, I’ll be out there gleefully ripping off nutsacks and decapitating dumbasses in a split second.”
That would scare most preds, but not me—it makes my girly bits sing. Too bad I need to focus.
I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips, knowing full well the kind of chaos Fitz can unleash if given even half a chance. Leaving Aubrey’s side, I pad over to the tiger, noting the semi he’s sporting at the mere thought of getting to maul the shit out of people. He really is a lunatic, but he’s my lunatic, and I love it.
“You’re pretty excited about that blood and gore, baby,” I murmur as I bend until I’m level with him. “I could probably help you with working off that pent-up energy, but I have to keep my head in the game.”
“You can keep my head in your?—”
“ For fuck’s sake, Fitz !”
Before the banter can escalate further, Felix emerges from the shadows. His head shakes slightly, as if to dispel the absurdity of Fitz’s bravado, and he steps toward me with a warmth that melts away the lingering pre-game tension. I rise to my full height, moving away from Fitz’s big problem to turn to the elder tiger twin. His lips press softly against my temple, an affectionate gesture that grounds me back to the moment.
“Sorry, Sir. He distracted me,” I say with a full on pout and batting lashes. “Won’t happen again.”
Felix snorts, shaking his head. “If anyone believes that, I have a bridge in New York for sale at a low, low price.”
My grin is wicked as I wink at him, then go back to my Sun Salutation. Both he and Aubrey groan when I bend down into Downward Dog again, making me grin to myself as I stretch.
“Are you guys wearing Cori’s uniforms for the match tonight?” Felix’s question pulls me from my thoughts, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Changing the subject, I see.
“Only me,” I reply, as I lift one leg in the air. “The rest of the team will suit up in the official gear once the real season kicks off in the fall. Mine is a prototype, so they’re seeing how it holds up with scrimmages in the spring.”
Felix nods, understanding flashing in his gaze. “That means Zhenga’s going to be holed up with that polar bear, obsessing over every last stitch until then, huh?”
“Seems like it.” There’s a hint of concern in my voice as I consider the implications—Zhenga’s attention split between coaching duties and uniform perfectionism could leave us vulnerable in ways I hadn’t anticipated. I wasn’t worried about it before, but since Fitz mentioned how distracted she’s been and now I think about how Cori’s been acting—I hope I didn’t set up a collab that will drive them both insane.
“Hopefully, she doesn’t get too caught up in the minute details,” Felix says. He gives my ass a reassuring pat, and I growl playfully back at him. “Now, I’ve got to go help the gargoyle with the dishes from breakfast or he’s going to come out here like a storm cloud. Be good— all of you .”
“Sir, yes, Sir!” I call mockingly and he chuckles as he walks away.
A frown creases my forehead as I watch Felix’s retreating back from my pose. The uniform I wore in the last match was gorgeous, and the design immaculate. Cori’s pure talent shone with every sparkle and the reviews were raving.
So why are she and Zhenga still slaving away over this? It doesn’t make sense.
“Everything should be done by now,” I murmur to myself, the words barely audible over the rustling leaves around our yoga spot. Cori’s perfectionism is legendary, but there’s a niggling thought that refuses to be swatted away—her drive could be something more, like a mask for nerves frayed and worn by pressure.
Chess clears his throat. “She is on her former home turf, where her family does business. Maybe that’s giving her pause?”
“That could be it. Maison de Bouvier operates out of Paris,” I muse, trying to convince myself. But the doubt lingers, stubborn as a weed. “Or maybe it’s something else.”
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, feeling the tightness in my muscles, a physical echo of the tension twisting through my thoughts. Giselle’s name surfaces in my mind like a dark cloud blotting out sunlight, bringing with it the memory of their break-up—a storm that left ripples of unease in its wake.
“I'll talk to her Sunday. It could be this, paired with the pressure of this semester...” I trail off, the pieces slotting together with a click of realization. The anxiety must be clawing at her, a silent beast prowling in the shadows of her confidence.
I know it’s come for me a few times, especially because we started behind the eight ball.
Fitz looks at me, his expression soft. “Baby Girl, don’t you think the badger would have come to you if something was wrong with the bear? You can’t worry about this with the match tonight. If you want, I’ll come with you to talk to Cococabana on Sunday. Sound good?”
“Okay. We’ll talk to her after the match,” I repeat, firming the resolve in my voice. Taking a deep breath, I let the air fill my lungs, expand my chest, and with a slow exhale, I release some of the tension that had gathered there.
For now, I have a match to focus on, a team to lead, and a family to cheer me on.
After all, where there is unity, there is always victory.