Chapter 20
VESSA
In the foyer window’s reflection, Nell mutters a swear at the sight of her bobbed hair now sopping and flat. Jabir takes her coat. “Someone please remind me why I choose to stay in this dreadful town. I think the sun has forsaken us.”
Indeed, the skies haven’t shown a glimpse of hope that these heavy rain clouds might soon disperse.
We gather in the warm den, where Cora examines the small cuts on my hand before wrapping it up in a fresh bandage.
The wounds are healing over nicely. Even better, my concussion has been officially cleared.
The Betas are just as pleased at the news. From his corduroy jacket, Jabir retrieves a small smartphone and places it on the walnut coffee table.
“The Alpha requested this for you.”
“Actually, I did.” Nell leans against the sofa cushion, stroking her baby bump. “Being Axe’s messenger pigeon isn’t really part of my job description.”
My stomach flutters when I see a notification illuminate the screen.
Axe Skornokovy
Tomorrow, I’d like you to meet me at the outdoor shooting range. Let’s say 1:00.
I type my response out four different times before finally settling on a satisfactory reply.
I’ll be there.
Zipping up my new sweatsuit, I make my way towards the shooting field behind the training complex.
Dressed in a faded t-shirt, cargo pants, and his usual combat boots, Axe is there, stacking cans on stumps.
To the left stands what must be an easel papered with practice targets.
The gun rests on a picnic table next to a box of small ammunition.
As I cautiously smooth my fingers over the long barrel, Axe jogs over to meet me.
Something about the way his backwards hat pairs with the dirtied clothes is disconcertingly attractive.
When he hauls the weapon into my arms, relief washes over me. The weight is hardly anything worth fussing about, but I’m not going to stand here and pretend it’s light as a stick.
“This shoots projectiles designed to hit small mammals like rabbits and squirrels. Today, your target is aluminum,” he explains.
“I thought you were giving me a real gun?”
“We’ll get there eventually. First, I want you to master your shooting stance and learn how to focus your aim using something lightweight.”
“Alright,” I sigh. I return my attention to the weapon in my grasp. “Well? Care to give a demonstration?”
“Nah. Today isn’t about me. Besides, I think you’d be far more impressed with how fast I can take this baby apart and put it back together.”
I raise the pellet gun to my shoulder, resting the butt against the soft nook of my upper breast. Instinctively, my non-dominant eye closes.
Axe comes to spot me, hovering over my shoulder. Close enough that all thoughts are smothered by the rich, masculine scent of his skin. A tremor courses through my stiff body as he snakes his arms around, resting at my waist. “May I?”
Sheepishly, I nod. It’s all I can do to resist stealing a look at him. Axe raises my right elbow, balancing out the weight of the barrel. Then, he rotates my hip so that my weight is evenly distributed on both legs.
“Beautiful,” he says.
I blush, even though he’s only referring to my posture.
I wiggle my toes in my sneakers, anchoring myself on the soggy soil, trying to concentrate on the terrain in front of me, not the salacious heat rushing to my core.
Inhaling deeply, I think of Tesni’s sharpness.
Her intention that steadies her in every minute of training and combat.
As the weight dissolves into my arms, I try to visualize what my own intention could be.
“Vessa,” the deep voice murmurs from above. “You see that little red dot in the rear sight indicator?”
“Yes.”
“Before you ever think about pulling the trigger, that dot needs to be centered on your target. Hold that position steady, and it’ll launch that pellet exactly where you’re aiming.”
Axe and I practice the proper stance, steadying breathing, cocking, and lining up the shot until it becomes muscle memory.
Finally, he flicks the safety latch and walks me up to the target stapled to the post, stopping me just behind the ten-yard marker.
In my periphery, Qinnu and a handful of warriors file out of the barracks, snickering.
“Pretend they aren't here,” he says. “It’s just the two of us and that bullseye.”
I balance my weight and inhale deeply, once again allowing my left eye to close. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. I repeat this until the red dot becomes my sole focus. Then, slowly, my index finger curls around the trigger.
On my first shot, I knick the outermost edge of the red circle. I swear under my breath. For a skinny barrel, the kickback is stronger than I’d anticipated.
Axe whoops. “Hell yeah! C’mon, let’s see another one.”
I fall back into position. Axe steps in again to adjust my posture gently, moving my hand further down the wooden forestock. As I monitor my breathing, I hear Wyatt’s voice echo in the back of my mind. By now, the gun feels like a natural extension of my arm.
On the next exhale, I vanquish all hesitation and fire. This time, my pellet strikes dead center. A grin spreads along my cheeks as I let two more fly, creating a perfect triangle within the bullseye.
Whistles and clapping applaud my aim, the Sentinel barking louder than the rest.
"What was that?"
Slowly, I lower the gun to the ground and fling my braid over my shoulder.
Axe doesn't appreciate my smirk. “Clearly, you aren’t new at this.”
“Nope. But it was cute watching you think I was. Being such a thorough instructor and all.”
When you’re on lockdown for three years, hiding from rogue lycans and other demons, learning to shoot is essential to your survival.
Back at Glacier Meadow, when I wasn’t helping Maurleen with the baby or wandering aimlessly through the pack village, I was out back with Wyatt, honing my aim.
Until Axe and I crossed paths with the vampire in Silverback territory, I had never truly had a reason to utilize my training.
Axe shakes his head, still astounded. “I misread you the other day. You were under the vampire’s influence.”
“I wish I could’ve found a way to help you. To break out of it somehow.”
He claps my shoulder and struts over to the post, tearing off the paper target. “Got any other surprises up your sleeve?”
It takes everything to stop my stomach from lurching. If only you knew, Commander.
Next, Axe directs me towards the beer can target display, marking seventeen meters away.
Then, second guessing himself, he orders another meter.
On a controlled exhale, I blast the first can off the stump.
When the aluminum flips over onto the ground, I look over my shoulder to see the lycan’s eyes glistening.
“You knock those other two down and I just might have to tap you in for a game of horse.”
My brows furrow. “Horse? That sounds like a game for wasted old men.”
“Old men don’t play my version.”
“And what would that be?”
“For each shot you miss, you have to strip.”
“That’s a little one-sided, don’t you think?”
Axe crosses his arms. “Fair’s fair. If you succeed, I’ll ditch a layer.”
Snorting, I pivot to face the target. I do love a good competition. “Hope you’re prepared to lose.”
Raising the pellet gun back up to my shoulder, I cock it, setting my sights on the dead-center can. Behind me, I feel the Alpha step closer. Too close.
Right as I pull the trigger, his voice drops to a bottomless depth. “Shall I try to guess the color of your underwear?”
My shot diverts to the base of the stump. I whirl around to face him. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a complete Axehole?”
“There’s an H.” Axe clicks his tongue. A lofty grin is plastered on his face. “I think the real lesson you need is mastering the art of distraction. Now strip.”
Scowling, I shrug off my vest, shivering as his eyes rake over my tight bodysuit. Falling back into my stance, I obliterate the other two cans shot for shot. “The only distracted person here is you, Commander. Now strip.”
He removes his hat first and underhand tosses it behind us. Next, he raises his arms, peeling the shirt slowly, drawing extra attention to his chiseled physique. Relax, Ves. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.
“If that’s true, then I’m sure this next round will be a breeze for you.”
Axe empties the pellet gun and sets it on the table.
My breath catches when he seizes my hand and walks me over to the awning structure where a portion of Qinnu’s unit observes, sipping their beers.
From under the adjacent pine, he pulls out three cement blocks, arranging them in the open field.
He then snags three glass bottles discarded by the men, placing them on top.
I try to block out the males when he guides me to my position—sixteen meters from the staggered targets.
Cocking a brow, he places something slick and cool into my hands. A revolver.
“This here is loaded with six rounds,” Axe states.
I step back, almost smirking as I press two squishy plugs into my ear cavities. Easy enough, right?
Leaving my side, Commander Axehole takes a seat right in the middle of my firing zone.
And yet, he doesn’t move. Apprehension hums in my blood as I raise the gun to my eye level.
For a small thing, it sure feels like I’m clutching a dumbbell.
Still, the revolver in my hands feels like it was fated to be.
I release a slow stream of air. The forefront of my mind quiets, wiping away all other trivial thoughts. Axe’s face becomes a blur.
Three seconds is all it takes for me to execute. Exploding around the Alpha’s head, the glass bottles shatter, one after the other.
A hearty round of applause follows, breaking me from the trance. I set the revolver down, only for Axe to lift me off the ground, spinning in a celebratory circle.
I have half a mind to swat him when my feet return to the ground. “That was the most reckless thing I’ve ever seen.”
Adrenaline pulses in his eyes as he promptly tugs off his belt. “Shall we continue?”
I vehemently decline, instead asking for a promotion to a real, heavy-duty weapon.
His acquiescent wink isn’t an official answer, but nevertheless, I hold out hope for something better tomorrow. Surely enough, the next morning he meets me, I’m given a nine-millimeter pistol to test out.
Having a gun back in my hand has oddly given me a sense of clarity.
And confidence. Perhaps this is what Tesni intended for me to discover before seeking her guidance.
I may never be a lycan warrior. And I can accept that.
I want to believe that these people will cast aside their judgments, should their Alpha choose to accept me in spite of the burden I carry.
By design, I have always been different.
I have always been capable of forging my own way.