I nod as he climbs out of the car and heads to his pack. My gaze flits across the field where his pack spar and sprint, their forms a blur of power and grace. When Zayn returns, I can’t contain my curiosity.
“Why aren’t they training in the city?” I ask.
“Because I won’t risk exposing my pack to other packs right now,” he explains. “Not until things settle down.”
“Shouldn’t you be training with them?”
“You’re still getting comfortable with all of this, so we’ll train back home until you’re comfortable training with the rest of the pack.”
As we drive back to the packhouse, I’m acutely aware of the man beside me—his presence has been constant lately. His scent envelopes me, a mix of sandalwood and something that is uniquely Zayn, grounding me in the here and now.
“Thank you,” I murmur, unsure of how else to express the gratitude and tumultuous emotions churning within me.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he replies with a wry smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ve got a lot of training to do, and I won’t go easy on you.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” I respond, the corners of my mouth lifting in spite of the situation.
The engine purrs to a stop and the world outside Zayn’s car fades as we pull into the packhouse grounds. The familiar sight of towering trees and a sprawling house greets me, but this time, it feels different. It’s not just a place I’m visiting; it’s my new home.
My heart thrums in my chest as Zayn leads me inside. The door shuts with a soft click behind me.
“Go get changed; Andrea dropped clothes over before I left to find you. They are in the walk-in closet.” Zayn’s voice is a calmcommand that somehow makes the chaos inside me still for a moment. I nod once and he wanders into the living room.
In the privacy of Zayn’s bedroom, I rifle through the clothes, my heart in my throat. The closet is filled with leggings, T-shirts, jeans, hoodies, and dresses. I change into the first thing I see, black leggings and a loose sweatshirt. A quick look in the mirror reveals I look like a mess, but I have much more significant problems right now.
Leaving the room, I find Zayn has moved all the furniture aside in the living room and has already changed out of his jeans and button-up and is in all his shirtless glory, abs rippling with muscles as he stretches like he just woke up looking sexy as hell for good measure.
My gaze trails over the ridges and valleys of his abs, and I’m caught—snared in the sight of him.
“Enjoying the view?” his voice rumbles, teasing and warm.
I roll my eyes, feigning indifference. “Seen better.”
“Sure you have,” he chuckles, stepping closer, pulling me into the cleared space.
“Let’s get started.”
“I’m shocked you are seriously going to make me train with you. After everything?” I ask, even though the heat of his body draws me in like iron to a magnet.
“Haven’t I been embarrassed enough? And now you want to hand my ass to me.”
“You can hold your own. And it’s about being prepared.” He grasps my wrists gently, his silver wolf eyes glinting. “And I need you prepared with everything going on.”
“Fine,” I concede, my pulse dancing as he keeps hold of me, guiding me through defensive stances. Each touch ignites sparks along my skin, each brush of his fingers against mine sends shivers up my spine.
“Good, now try to pin me,” he instructs, a playful edge in his tone.
“Like I could,” I scoff, but the challenge lights a fire within me. I’ve seen him fight three Alphas, yet he’s pretending I could actually cause him harm.
We move around each other, part combat, part me evading his reach. His body is a force of nature, and every move is precise and potent. He allows me close and lets me think I might have a chance. Our bodies collide, and I find it invigorating. He may have skill, but I’m a lot smaller and faster as I escape his grip and duck under his arm with a laugh. I kick the back of his knee, and he drops to one knee, and I pounce on him.
“Got you,” I pant as I manage to jump on his back. He laughs.
“Got me how?” he laughs, he only has to lean forward, and my feet no longer touch the ground. Reaching back, he grips my arm and a shriek leaves my lips as he rips me over his shoulder. The air leaves my lungs in a rush as I hit the foam mat.
“I got you,” he laughs. My breath hitches as I stare up into his eyes, molten gray.
“Seems you do,” I murmur. “Helps you have a lot more reach than me!”
