Chapter 13 Kit #2
Surely he knew what those were, at least? I demonstrated, jumping my feet apart whilst raising my arms overhead, then back together. Felix watched with hilarious amounts of concentration.
“Like this,” I said, doing a few more. “Ten reps means ten times, yeah?”
Felix attempted to copy me. His movements were stilted and uncoordinated, like someone had programmed him to move but forgotten to install the athletics package. His arms flailed, slightly out of sync with his legs.
“Good,” I lied. “Now let’s try some lunges.”
Again, blank stare.
I demonstrated, stepping one foot forward and lowering my body until both knees were bent at ninety degrees. Felix’s attempt looked more like he was curtseying to the Queen.
“I take it you didn’t enjoy PE at school?” I chuckled.
Felix’s face darkened. “That’s putting it mildly.”
He stopped his awkward lunging and ran a hand through his hair.
“What happened?”
“Well, I was basically the poster child for everything wrong with the British education system’s approach to sports.”
“Meaning?”
“Too small, too uncoordinated, terrible at anything involving balls being thrown at my head.” He gestured vaguely at himself.
“The teachers treated me like I was broken. Other kids treated me like I was infectious. To be honest, I ended up spending most PE lessons hiding in the changing rooms or pretending to have asthma attacks. Which probably wasn’t helping my case for not being a complete weirdo. ”
My hackles rose at the thought of assholes picking on a younger Felix, probably an even more anxious one.
“The only reason I survived the last year of secondary school was because my computing teacher took pity on me. She insisted I was needed as her assistant during my PE slots, helping teach the year seven cohort who were incompetent with technology.”
“So you didn’t play any sports at all?”
Felix stared at me like I’d asked if he’d ever flown to the moon.
“My school was small,” I said, steering the conversation back to me. “But I played for the football and rugby teams.”
“I bet you did,” Felix said, and something in his tone made my stomach flip.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Felix laughed, and the sound washed over me like a warm wave. His whole face lit up when he laughed properly, not the nervous chuckle he usually gave but something genuine and warm. God, he looked so bloody cute standing there in those ridiculous pink Lycras, hair messed up and cheeks flushed.
“Nothing, just… you’re exactly the type who would’ve been captain of everything, aren’t you?”
I scratched at my neck. “I guess I hated my home life so much, I stayed at school for as many after-school clubs as possible. Though eventually, Da put a stop to it. Said I was spending too much time with my human friends, spending too much time away from pack duties. Said Rory needed a better example of what it meant to be a Thorne.”
Felix’s expression softened, curiosity replacing the teasing glint in his eyes. “Rory talks about it a lot,” he said, almost shyly. “Your childhood, in Scotland. It sounds like it was really tough.”
“Yeah, well,” I said, not wanting to dive into the mess that was my childhood. I didn’t like talking about that, at all. “Enough talk. You’re just trying to distract me so you don’t have to exercise.”
Felix’s mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “I would never!”
“Liar.” I grinned at him. “Ten push-ups. You know what those are, surely?”
Felix groaned but dropped to the floor without arguing. He positioned himself on his hands and knees, then lowered himself down.
This was a mistake. Because I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his pert little ass as he struggled through what might generously be called push-ups. The pink Lycra clung to every curve, and my wolf purred with satisfaction at the view.
Focus on his form. His terrible, terrible form.
Felix’s arms shook as he managed maybe three proper repetitions before collapsing onto the mat, breathing hard.
“You know what, we’ll just get to it,” I said, my voice coming out awfully raspy. “We’ll have to stop for lunch soon anyway. Maybe we’ll start at ten thirty next time.”
More time with him would be good.
More time to train him.
For his own good.
“First, I need a baseline assessment of your skills.” I moved closer to him as he climbed back to his feet. “I want you to fight me off with all your strength.”
Felix looked dubious, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Fight you off?”
“Just go for it. Pretend I’m attacking you.”
I moved towards him, and Felix immediately scrambled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. Perfect. Exactly what I’d expected.
I advanced again, this time committing to the movement.
Felix threw his hands up defensively, but I easily swept his legs, controlled his fall with a grip on his wrist, and had him pinned beneath me within seconds.
Standard takedown, textbook execution. His breathing was rapid against my chest as he writhed about, and my wolf sang with joy at having our mate underneath us.
Aye, this is exactly what you’ve always wanted, you sick bastard.
“I yield!” Felix shouted, his voice slightly panicked. “I yield, or whatever!”
I scrambled off him, heart hammering, and retreated several steps.
“Yeah, we definitely should have taught you some basic self-defence years ago.”
I stepped forward and offered Felix my hand. He hesitated before taking it, and I pulled him to his feet in one smooth motion. He was lighter than I’d expected, and for a moment—one tiny moment—we stood too close together, his fingers still wrapped around mine.
Felix jerked his hand away and stepped back, scowling as he smoothed down his T-shirt, cheeks flushed.
I stepped towards him again. “Punch me as hard as you can.”
Felix’s pathetic little punch barely registered against my chest.
“You can do better than that.”
He tried again, marginally harder.
“Imagine you’re in danger, and this punch could save your life.”
Another punch. Still felt like a butterfly landing.
“Imagine that man comes back,” I found myself saying, shocking myself with the idea. “And you want to show him he should never have decided to mess with you.”
This punch finally had actual force behind it. I grabbed his wrist mid-swing, twisted it behind his back, and pulled him against me in one fluid motion. Classic restraint technique, designed to immobilise without causing injury.
I pressed Felix tightly against my chest, his back to my front, breathing hard from exertion and adrenaline. In the ballroom’s ornate mirrors, we were reflected from multiple angles—him trapped in my arms, me towering over him, both of us flushed and breathing heavily. For different reasons.
I’d wanked this morning specifically to avoid getting hard during this session.
But Christ, we were veering into dangerous territory now, with heat pooling low in my belly, Felix’s ass pressed against my hips, his body soft and pliant in my arms and those bloody mirrors showing me exactly what I looked like holding him.
Every instinct I had screamed at me to tighten my grip and never let him go.
But I did.
The next hour blurred past in a haze of basic defensive moves. I taught Felix how to break free from wrist grabs, how to use his elbows and knees as weapons, how to make himself a smaller target. He was surprisingly quick to pick things up once he stopped overthinking every movement.
“Don’t telegraph your intentions,” I called out as he attempted another escape manoeuvre. “Your face gives away everything you’re planning to do three seconds before you do it.”
Felix scowled and tried again, this time managing to twist free from my grip with only minimal help.
“Better. Your body’s remembering the movements now.”
He had a scrappy spirit underneath all that anxiety. When he stopped worrying about looking foolish, he fought with genuine determination. Nothing graceful or polished, but effective in its own chaotic way. Like a cornered animal that had finally decided to bite back.
By the time my stomach started growling, Felix had managed to land several solid hits and execute most of the basic escapes without my assistance. Sweat dampened his white T-shirt, making it cling to his chest, and his hair stuck up at odd angles.
“Right, lunch time,” I announced, hiding any disappointment that our session was ending.
Felix practically sagged with relief, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt.
The fabric rode up, giving me a glimpse of stomach and the dark trail of hair that disappeared beneath his waistband.
My mouth went completely dry. When he dropped the shirt back down, I had to force myself to look away before he noticed me staring.
“You did well,” I said. “Really well, considering you started from scratch.”
“Thanks.” Felix grabbed his hoodie from the side and pulled it back on. “My arms are going to hate me this afternoon. I might have to voice-type instead.”
“I was thinking,” I said, stacking the last mat against the wall. “I’d like to schedule a session where you train with me as a wolf as well.”
Felix froze. “As a wolf?”
“Just in case GREY sends a shifter after you,” I said quickly. “Or any shifter, really. You need to know how to handle an opponent who’s faster and stronger than any human.”
Nothing to do with my wolf’s burning desire to be near him, to let Felix see every part of me, to have his scent all over my fur.
“You think it’s Greywatch?” Felix’s voice pitched higher. “My stalker?”
I shrugged, aiming for casual. “Could be. Though honestly, it might just be some bloke who fancies you but doesn’t know how to ask you out properly.”
I’d meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood. But Felix didn’t laugh. His bottom lip thinned as he pressed his mouth into a line.
“So my two options are weaponised military wolf shifter, or sexual predator with poor social skills.”
Ah. Well, when you put it like that…
As we left the ballroom, my brain scrambled for a complete change in conversation.
“Oh, hey,” I said. “Did you ever find someone else to replace Wren as your plus-one for that concert you’re going to?”
I wasn’t about to invite myself, definitely not. But… I was genuinely curious. And worried, after he’d told me he’d once had a panic attack in a crowd.
“No,” Felix said. “Lily found another friend to bring instead.”
My heart sank like a stone dropped into deep water. Well, that was that then. Chance over.
“Cool,” I managed. “I’m sure you’ll still have fun.”
“Yeah.” Felix shrugged, though he looked absolutely miserable at the thought. “It’ll be fine.”