Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lena
“Alright, trainees.” Coach Warwick’s voice bounces off the walls of the gym. “From here on out, we’ll begin every class with a ten-minute match where you’ll be randomly paired with a sparring partner.”
Because apparently my luck ran out two weeks ago, I’m partnered with Katri. This is a giant pile of gorgon shit! I don’t fully understand what that means, but I heard Naomi say it and I like it. I’ve decided it’s my new curse.
I meet Katri on our mat, where she’s stretching with some of her friends and sending absolute fuck me eyes to Boden.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” I say with snark. “But it’s once again the time of the week for you to beat the crap out of me.”
Katri glares at me like I was responsible for pairing us together. “Great,” she says with a sneer. “Good thing I stocked up on extra hand sanitizer.” She shares a laugh with Hally and Crystal.
“You can never be too careful,” Crystal agrees. “Humans carry all kinds of communicable diseases.”
These absolute hags.
I roll my eyes. “Can we just get this over with?”
Boden nods at Katri and motions for us to move onto the mat. I arch my brow at him as if to say “What do you want?”
“I am supervising the match,” he says dryly. “You could use all the help you can get.”
I roll my eyes so hard I feel they might get stuck in the twelve o’clock position.
“Oh, of course, Great Mentor.” I bow sarcastically.
The buzzer starts to count down from 5…4…
God, I really hate that thing…3…2…1. Katri takes a swing at my face, but I bounce out of the way.
Thanks, Naomi, for teaching me that move this weekend.
We began to circle each other, our movements slow and deliberate.
Katri’s steps are light, graceful. She strikes again, a quick jab that I barely manage to deflect.
The force of her blow sends a shock up my arm.
I counter with a series of punches, aiming for her midsection.
She dodges them effortlessly, her dancer’s body weaving.
Boden sighs in annoyance. Why is he annoyed?
He’s not the one getting hit. Her fist connects with my ribs.
Pain explodes in my side, and I stumble back, gasping for breath.
“Katri, stop playing around,” Boden chastises with a bored voice.
Playing around? That didn’t feel like playing around, that fucking hurt.
I grit my teeth and lunge at her, desperate to land a hit.
She sidesteps my attack, tripping me with a kick to the back of my knee.
I hit the ground, hard, the impact rattling my skull.
Before I can get up, she’s on me, pinning me down with ease.
She’s not much taller than me, and I’m certainly heavier than her.
But she’s all lean muscle and vicious intent.
She taunts with a mocking pout, “Poor little half human thought she could come out to play.”
I glare up at her, anger boiling inside me. I try to kick her off, but her forearm is wrapped around my neck too tight.
“You should go back to whatever trailer park you crawled out of,” she whispers in my ear.
I quickly lose my ability to breathe, tapping the floor three times to yield. Each rancorous tap, a blow to my ego. She squeezes tighter.
“I yield,” I sputter, the word tasting bitter on my tongue, but she doesn’t release me. My ears ringing, my consciousness slipping.
“Katri. That’s enough.” Boden’s booming voice rises above the sounds of my classmates sparring.
She quickly releases me. I gasp in a full breath.
She stands, sauntering away with Boden. Feeling the sting of defeat, I can barely stop the watery swell of tears behind my river dam eyelids.
In the last two weeks, I’ve sparred with plenty of people, so why does this particular ass kicking feel so embarrassing?
“Walk it off, Solis,” Boden demands, looking back over his shoulder. I glance up to the clock; there are still seven minutes left in the match. So I lie there, ignoring Boden’s instructions and hoping to liquify so I can seep through the floorboards where no one will find me.
After another few minutes, both Naomi and Aki join me on the mat.
“I hate this.” I let out an exasperated growl, throwing my hands down next to me.
“I don’t see why we’re required to learn combat.
I’m never going to get this. Why can’t we choose classes based on our talents?
This doesn’t come easy to me like it does to you,” I huff at Naomi, who’s now lying next to me, breathing heavily after winning her match.
“You think this came easy to me?” She side-eyes me.
I nod self-consciously. “Well, it doesn’t.
I’ve had to work my ass off to be this good.
I’m half human, remember? I have to work twice as hard as the rest of them.
” She gestures around the room where the other 398 students are throwing each other around.
“I mean, I’ve had a combat tutor most of my life. But I’m not a natural.”
My cheeks color with something akin to shame. She’s an incredible fighter. I’ve seen her take down men double her size. I guess I didn’t think about what it took in order for her to be that good.
“I’m not going to lie. I’ve taken to combat quite well for as long as I can remember,” Aki says firmly. “But my family couldn’t afford extra tutelage. We all come with our own disadvantages. Or well, some of us.” He glances over to where Katri’s sparring.
“Growing up human definitely doesn’t grant you an edge, but I’m sure you can bring something the others don’t.” Naomi gives me an encouraging smile.
Maybe she’s right and I’m going about this all wrong. “I just have to figure out what advantages I bring to the mat.” And by extension, the rest of the realm.
I may be throwing a little bit of a tantrum about combat training.
I still think it’s ridiculous, and I don’t see myself ever enjoying it.
I’m more of a kill-em-with-comedy or crush-em-with-curves kind of fighter.
Ha! I crack myself up. Slay-em-with-seduction?
Oh, I got one more! Knock-em-out-with-knockers!
Anyway, I take to heart Naomi’s and Aki’s advice.
“Well.” I stand, brushing my hands together. “I’m ready to keep getting my ass handed to me.”
Butterflies flap nervously around in my stomach while I pace behind Havard Hall, waiting for my tutoring session with Teariki and Callum.
I don’t know why I’m so high-strung. I also have no idea how I’m still standing after my full day of physical torment.
At this rate, a whole day in the spa isn’t going to be enough to replace the energy I’m burning through.
I’m run down, and that sick-shaky feeling has returned.
“Hey,” Teariki calls, as he jogs to my side. “How are you doing, beautiful girl?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Beautiful girl?”
His face turns a deep shade of burnt-umber red.
Is he blushing? “I didn’t think we were in pet name territory.” I purse my lips.
“Oh…um…y-yeah. I was just trying it out.” He stumbles over his words and then shrugs bashfully. “I give everyone nicknames!” he proclaims without meeting my eyes.
“You do? Somehow I can’t imagine that Komarov or Kian would be all too happy with a nickname,” I tease, hoping to smooth over Teariki’s embarrassment.
“You might be surprised at what gets those two hot and bothered.” He winks.
I’d really love to know.
“I call Nik Sexy Fang.”
“Does he hate it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Oh, he hates it.” Teariki draws out the words with a devious glint in his eyes. “Let’s see a starting stance.”
Readying my fists, I step into my newly practiced position. “I call him Professor Pissy Prince or Professor Grumpy Fangs,” I admit. “Although only in my head, as I like it attached to my body.”
“Oh yeah, don’t ever call him that to his face, unless you’re looking to be a blood donor.” Teariki giggles, actually giggles, like he’s imagining Komarov’s face upon hearing said nicknames. He adjusts my position, putting his hands on my hips and kicking my legs wider. “Good.”
I beam under his praise.
“I usually call Kian Boss Man. Nicknames don’t seem to affect him one way or another,” he says. “Okay, let me see a right hook.”
I throw a punch, and he repositions my knuckles and shoulders.
“Try again.”
“That’s good because I have a lot of names for Kian,” I mumble as Teariki shifts my back leg and I throw another punch.
“Let me see a left hook,” he commands, and I change up my stance.
He walks behind me, adjusting my hips, his strong fingers lingering on a strip of my exposed skin.
Heat radiates from his body and melts into my muscles, making me more relaxed and limber—an almost drugging feeling.
“Do you have any nicknames for me?” His breath tickles my neck, and I fight back a shiver.
“I’m still undecided, not sure if you’ve earned one yet.
” I smirk at him over my shoulder. He gives me a little pout, his hands still on me.
“Well, if you keep looking at me like that, it might have to be Puppy,” I joke in my most over-the-top sultry whisper.
His breath catches, his grip tightening just slightly.
He quickly steps away. “Oh, uh, yeah, ha ha, because I’m a wolf shifter?” Looking toward the ground, he scratches the back of his neck.
Did I embarrass him again? Me and my bulldozer mouth running off and making things awkward.
“What do your friends call you?” I try to ease the discomfort I feel building between us.
Shrugging, he lets the jovial tone return to his voice. “Ariki, mostly.”
“Okay, since we’re friends, can I call you Ariki?” I offer a cheerful smile, and he gives me a golden retriever grin and excited nod in return. I really think I was spot on with Puppy.