Our pack trained every night by age groups. Wednesday was for teens turning 15 to whenever they first shift. Training would be at the pack hall as usual.
My home was just next door to the pack house, so all I needed to do was get changed and bring a water bottle. I could just walk back home and shower after that. One of the few Alpha daughter perks I was happy to take advantage of.
I've been going for pack training from the moment I could walk. Little pups had daytime weekend lessons, then three years on Monday nights, three years on Tuesday nights. And this year, I got promoted to Wednesday night.
Once I shift, my training night will be on Thursday. And when I hit 18, I will train on Friday.
Saturday nights were for the mated warrior wolves.
Sunday nights were extra sessions for elite warrior wolves. Elite warrior wolves were ranked warriors. That meant they were the top 30 warriors of our pack.
It's a spot they competed for, and there was a ranking tournament every year.
To be eligible, you had to be a warrior over 18. It's a flexible full-time job for a year, paid well, with daily buffet access at the pack dining hall, an apartment on an exclusive floor of the pack house, and it put you at the forefront for other promotions. Almost all our deltas were selected from elite warriors.
One day I want to try for a spot. I know I'm already alpha - that was my birthright - but a spot on the elite warriors, that would have to be earned. That's why I never missed a training session.
On top of this, I signed up for the regular weekend training courses, my dad trained me on the Saturdays he was free, and I practiced control exercises every night before I went to sleep, because the control practice needed to be worked on consistently to show results.
I mean, it did show up rather well earlier today with Maria… At the thought of Maria, my mouth turned down.
And when I pulled off my PJs to change, I saw the bruises and started to feel pissed all over again because now I can't wear my favourite sports bra and white t-shirt combination. Grrr!
I threw the white t-shirt back into the wardrobe without hanging it properly.
Not in the mood, and for lack of anything that might cover my arms, I ended up wearing yoga tights and a gym jacket over my sports bra. It's not the trending look for training sessions right now, but whatever.
Pulling my hair up in a messy bun, I checked the mirror, got on a pair of black ankle socks, and stuck my feet into a pair of black trainers.
I hadn't planned to go for my first session dressed top to toe in black. But I had a lot of black clothes, so it just happened.
With nothing left to do, I headed downstairs to grab my water bottle from the counter.
"I'm going!" I hollered to the house.
"Bye, dear!" My mum popped her head out of the pantry.
My dad growled something… but it was too deep and rumbly to understand. Why was he in the pantry? No, I didn't want the answer to that.
"AND STAY OUT!" Savy yelled from up the stairs before cackling like she had just told the joke of the year. Savy cackled loud and often, but only at home.
Once, we were fooling around on the stairs when Savy cackled, and not just any cackle, more like the wicked witch of the west just got a pair of red shoes cackle. To her horror, we found Lizzy and Ben sitting at our breakfast table downstairs. They stared at both of us; I think they were trying to figure out who the wicked witch was.
Caught off guard, Savy was a bit embarrassed, her cheeks tinted a small blush, and she managed a small uncertain smile… so she ended up looking like a shy doll.
I didn't take well to being stared at either, so I growled and clapped Ben hard on his shoulder. The twins dropped their gaze submissively. I released Ben and took the last red apple from his hand. If he had meant to eat it, he didn't protest. But by now, I think they had decided I was the wicked witch of the house.
Of course, I'm offended. Cackling like a witch did nothing for my alpha image. But Savy looked more than a little relieved. Whatever. I can take the rap. I can take a lot of things.
I breezed into the training hall. I'm early, but that's fine. It would have been nice to catch up with Dean before training, but he wasn't here yet. Dean was the kind of best friend who was incapable of punctuality.
Yup, you heard right, I had another best friend. I've actually never noticed until I'm writing this. I guess I'm not the lone wolf I thought I was.
Anyway, Dean and I were the only two pups born to our pack that year, so we've been trained together since we were toddlers. My mum had a picture of both of us as babies.
In the photo, my mum and Dean's mum were seated on a sofa smiling; they each held a pup, putting them close together. As a baby, Dean was small and fair, with a light tuft of hair on top of his head. Really cute.
The baby that my mum was holding, however, was a different breed of baby: I was large and stocky with pitch‑black eyes, and except for a small dark stripe of hair running down the center of my head, I was completely bald. Goddess! I was born with a Mohawk.
What a bad‑ass alpha baby!
But for some reason, the photo made me feel bad. I laughed it off when my mum first showed it to me, "It looks like the two of you switched babies! Dean is the girl and I'm the boy."
"You did look like a boy," my mum admitted, "I prayed every night to the moon goddess to bless you with beauty!"
Wait, what?
"And see how well my prayers worked!" Mum gently lifted up my chin to close my gaping mouth, "Sam, you grow more beautiful every day."
I huffed and pulled away from her gentle touch, "We both know you're biased."
But don't stop praying yet… I've still got a long way to go.
BAM! I snapped out of my reverie when the hall door slammed open; three guys came in.
Looking about quickly, they found a corner to put their stuff. I narrowed my eyes at the intrusion. I didn't recognize them, but our trainer came in too.
Our trainer this year was Flynn. Flynn had been an elite warrior for a while now, and I knew my dad and his beta were eyeing him for the new delta position.
Flynn's cool… in a young‑uncle kind of way. He had tutored me a bit during my last school break — just theory stuff on fighting stances and patterns, and a bit on conflict and skirmish management… which was his pet topic, by the way.
He was also the official mentor to the youths. I heard he was the go‑to guy if the older teens caused trouble in the pack.
Evelyn and her friends say he's hot… but he's taken (and also like 10 years too old for us).
His mate, Macy, was from another pack, and I didn't know her well.
I've seen her around though, and had never failed to admire her straight, brown, shoulder‑length, perfectly bobbed cut and long lashes. I'm told she was an incredible singer.
Evelyn and the other older teens had seen her perform at some of the clubs in town. Flynn and his best friend Hank told me she was high‑maintenance.
Today, he's wearing his hair in a tight man-bun, a black gym t-shirt stretched tight, and black everything else too. He lifted up a hand towards me, showing the long jagged scar running down the length of his arm. "Hi Sam! Looks like we matchy!"
I walked over, "Hi, Sir."
We called all the trainers "Sir" during training.
"Come meet the others." Flynn gestured to the three guys who were now standing rather subdued next to him.
"Nix, Marlon, and Ethan from the Morning Light Pack." Flynn introduced.
The Morning Light Pack was our nearest neighbour, and we shared a lot of resources, like schools for example, but I wouldn't know them because I don't go to our pack's school. No… I had to take a train all the way to a vampire‑infested one…
Unaware of my bitter internal rant, Flynn continued the introductions, "Guys, this is Samantha, the Al-"
"- Just Sam is fine," I said, and Flynn caught my drift, "Yeah, Sam, the awesome girl who is out of bounds at all times."
I nearly choked, and Flynn was quick to explain, "Just setting clear boundaries, Sam."
I can set my own boundaries, thank you very much! But since he was our trainer this year, I bit back my growl and turned away. Whatever.
I walked back to where I put my bottle, took a quick drink, and started the usual stretching.
Flynn got the boys to show him the stretching routines they usually used in their home pack…
From what I saw, it didn't look like they had any fixed routine, and the boys just gave half-hearted, random stretches.
Flynn watched with his arms folded across his chest — a sign that he was restraining himself from strangling someone. Hahaha.
Dean came in now, "Hey Flynn, I mean, sir, sorry I'm late."
"You owe me one round for every minute you're late," Flynn told him.
Then, to the rest of us, "Let's restart on warm-ups! Dean, get your butt up front here and lead."
Dean moved up front and we repeated the stretching routine I had just finished.
I tried not to let the little things tick me off.
Like that there were three idiots too many in my training session.
Or that no one thought I should have a heads-up that we were training with the pack next door this year.
Or that Flynn's responsibility as my trainer included drawing unnecessary boundaries.
Or that we were wasting time on warm-ups.
Or that Flynn chose Dean to lead it…
Dean didn't look happy either. I realized he couldn't remember what came next.
I acted like I didn't notice and went through the sets so Dean could copy it.
Flynn had his arms crossed again. His dark brows were pinched together, and I could tell I wasn't the only one getting ticked off.
Dean made a blunder, which was quickly amplified by the other three goons.
Flynn let out a low growl, and I grimaced inside.
Knowing Flynn, he was gonna whip us into shape if it killed him. Or in all likelihood, killed us. And whatever he had planned for the rest of the session had just been mentally adjusted to punish us.
Just as I thought that it couldn't get worse, Evelyn entered the room.
The moment she entered, I remembered she hadn't shifted yet, so even though she was already 17, she wasn't down for Thursday training with the rest of her friends.
Flynn nodded sharply for her to join the rest of us. Evelyn looked very reluctant, but she dragged herself over and made some sorry-looking movements.
If she didn't pull those stretches, her body won't cope later.
I looked away. It's none of my business. Let the one who liked to draw clear boundaries correct her.
But he didn't. He was too busy fuming in Dean's direction. Dean knew it, and was panicking, and pretty much messing it up worse. At one point, Dean was counting without the one, "2, 3, 4..."
I mean, yes, sometimes people do that when they exercise, but they also do the first moment even though they don't say it out loud. Dean pretty much skipped the first movement, so we did one less step for everything.
Flynn looked furious when he noticed. The goons who had noticed it a few reps ago were snickering, and it made them shake unsteadily whenever we had to shift our weight back on one foot to kick.
My best friend was so dead. And he knew it. But instead of finishing the final set, Dean abruptly stopped midway through a rep and fled out of the hall.
"Ran like a girl." The one called Marlon had to observe aloud.
The other guys chuckled. One of them, Ethan I think, mimicked a girl running very badly. More laughing and horsing around. Asses.
I kept my growl low. I hate to admit it, but I kinda got where Marlon was coming from.
I looked at the three guys, they were at least as tall as I was. Which by now you know, was pretty rare. I mean I was already at a full grown woman's height at 15! Most boys were still shorter. But my dad was right, the guys were catching up.
Last I checked, Dean was about an inch or two shorter than me. The three goons were bigger and badder. Now that I actually looked at them, I noticed their bad boy vibes.
"Sam, maybe you should go talk to Dean, while I work with these guys." Flynn said finally.
He sounded a bit deflated.
Evelyn walked away to sit on a side bench. Flynn didn't stop her.
I almost felt sorry for Flynn. His promotion, while not entirely riding on this training year, would be undoubtedly affected.
I walked out into the cool night air and let my lucky sense of direction lead me into the nearby woods.
Within a heartbeat, I caught Dean's scent in the breeze, intermingled with tears… and blood?
I moved quicker through the undergrowth and found Dean looking miserable, sitting on a log. He had blood in his palm.
"Dean, what happened?"
Dean blinked as if he hadn't sensed my approach. Seriously, sometimes that guy really worried me!
I went over and sat next to him. He showed me his hand, "I fell."
There was a nasty gash on his palm.
"You need to clean it up so it can heal," I told him.
I took his hand and stood up, the way we did since we were pups. Wordlessly, he pulled me back down to sit next to him.
The movement must have hurt his wounded hand, and he hissed a bit from the pain. I checked his hand again.
"What's wrong?" I asked again, very softly.
For some reason, I've always been gentle with Dean. He was probably the only boy my age who wasn't entirely stupid.
He was gentle and sensitive, and I've watched him suffer for it. He was the runt, the omega, and sometimes also known as Deana.
Of course, he wasn't any of these things.
He was his warrior dad's firstborn son.
Unfortunately, he also had a brother, Drew, who was a year younger, and well-built. Tallest guy in class, junior basketball captain kind of well-built. That didn't help.
Darlyn, their sister, was like Dean, small and waif-like, but she was a girl and considered rather pretty.
But the point was, we all knew—okay, I knew—that if Dean just had more training and growing, he would make it.
We've been training partners ever since I could remember; we've been getting in and out of trouble for years now, and when the time comes, we will both earn our ranks as elite warriors.
"I really messed up," Dean growled low. He was crying again. Dean didn't cry in front of anyone except me (so don't think he's a wimp).
I put my arm around him, "Everybody messes up sometimes."
We didn't say anything for a while. I felt him shivering under my arm and realized he was still only wearing a singlet.
I had a gym jacket, but only a sports bra under it — which was technically perfectly okay to wear alone for training sessions.
Although I've never done that, I've seen lots of other girls do. Dean kept shivering.
After a while, I heard his teeth chattering. I looked at the hand I'm holding. He was still bleeding. Dean took a long time to heal.
"Come on, let's go back before you bleed to death," I said, pulling his hand up lightly.
"Just let me bleed!" He growled. He pulled his hand back but reached over with his good hand to hold mine.
I pulled out my hand and unzipped my jacket. "Here, you can wear this."
We've only done some stretching exercises just now, so I guess it wasn't totally unhygienic.
He hesitated a bit, but took it. He had to stand up and put it on properly.
It's dark, but my werewolf sight worked well enough for me to notice how my jacket fit on his body.
His shoulders were a bit broader, so the jacket got stretched out more over them. I grinned, "You look pretty good in a girl's jacket."
He growled but didn't sound too offended.
"Let's go back." I tried again.
"No. I don't want to go back… please." He added, and I felt my resolve to get out of the cold crumble.
The wind was icy, and although I'm still okay, I won't last long in just my sports bra. I sighed, "Can we just walk? Or run your rounds for Flynn?"
Dean paused, "Let's just walk then."
So we did. We walked for a while, very slowly.
I wanted to speed up to work up some body heat, but Dean was being a slowpoke. I guess he was wrapped up in his thoughts (and my warm jacket).
"Flynn was picking on me," Dean finally said.
"I don't think so," I replied honestly, "I think he was giving you an opportunity."
"Well, I blew it! And now the guys will just have another thing to beat me up about in school." Dean had stopped walking. He was tearing up again, his fist clenched by his side. Grrr…
The bloodied hand was bleeding anew now. I tried to pull his hand up to stop the bleeding.
Someone approached.
Huh? What?
"Shhh…" I put one hand on Dean's chest in a bid to stop the whimpering.
Then I sensed another wolf, very near us. He emerged, and I was relieved to see it was only Flynn.
"Those guys beat you up in school?" Flynn's eyes were black and narrowed. His face was drawn in hard lines.
I looked at Dean. Really? Was Dean getting beat up in his new class? Like that was just an expression, right?
Dean looked down, ashamed. I frowned. He wasn't the one who did anything wrong.
"I'm going to make them pay." Flynn growled. He stalked back to the pack house.
I led Dean by his good hand to follow suit. But Dean just changed our handhold so that he was leading.
"I'm the guy." He growled very softly in my ear, "I'll lead the way."
I almost giggled. Almost. Just for a while, I forgot I was the alpha.