Chapter 0008

The next morning at training, Alpha Alistair paired me against three of his warriors. I wasn’t worried. Dad had trained me to handle multiple attackers since I could walk. Two of them would be easy to take down. But Sebastian? That would take effort. Next to me and the ranked wolves, he was their best fighter. Smart, too—not just relying on brute strength like most warriors did with me. Sebastian studied his opponents, learned their weaknesses. He hadn’t found mine yet, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

I waited until they positioned me in the center of their triangle. I faced Sebastian, my biggest threat, while keeping the other two in my peripheral. He struck first, aiming a punch at my gut. I ducked under his arm, dropped to my knees, and slid toward Reginald—or "The Dick," as I liked to call him. My fist shot up between his legs, crushing his family jewels. He crumpled with a groan.

A rush of air near my head made me drop flat on my back, knees bent, feet planted. Julian’s leg swung where my head had just been. As his momentum carried him, I hooked my feet around his planted leg and twisted, yanking him down and dislocating his knee in the process. His howl of pain echoed across the field.

I flipped back up, ready for Sebastian. He watched me, calculating. I smirked and crooked my fingers, daring him forward. He feinted left, then swept low, trying to take out my legs. I leaped over him, spinning midair to deliver a roundhouse kick. He ducked, using the same move I’d just pulled on Julian. Clever bastard.

We traded blows, neither gaining the upper hand until I landed a sharp jab to his throat. In that split second of shock, I grabbed his arm, twisted it just shy of dislocation, and forced him to his knees. He tapped out before I could pop his shoulder. The squad erupted in applause. I hauled him up.

"Good fight, little hellion," he grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "But I’m coming for you."

"I’d expect nothing less," I shot back as he helped Julian and Reginald limp toward the infirmary. Alpha Alistair gave me an approving nod.

The school day blurred past. I caught Adrian staring at me more than once but managed to avoid him—thanks in part to his ever-present entourage.

On the drive home, Nathaniel brought up our usual Friday night plans. Silver Fang, the local werewolf club, was our sanctuary. Nestled between Blackthorn and Nightshade territories, it was our place to unwind. I’d been going since I turned seventeen, and it was also where I met Alpha Sebastian.

We hadn’t put a label on whatever we were. Friends, but more. He knew I was waiting for my mate, so we weren’t friends with benefits, but he never pressured me. At twenty-four, he was older, wiser, and unlike a certain future alpha, he actually saw me. Respected me. Wanted me as his chosen mate. And if I was honest? Part of me hoped fate would agree.

After training with Dad, I scarfed down dinner and raced upstairs to get ready. Genevieve called to confirm our plans and hitch a ride. I told her Nathaniel was driving, and she promised to text him.

I slipped into a deep red corset top that laced up the back, paired with black skinny jeans and stiletto boots. My curls tumbled loose down my back, and I kept my makeup light—just a smoky eye to make my emerald gaze pop.

Nathaniel’s text buzzed as I headed downstairs. He was already outside with Genevieve and Julian in the car. I kissed Dad goodnight and climbed into the back.

"Hey, hellion," Julian teased. "Taken down any alphas today?"

"Not yet," I smirked. "But the night’s young."

Genevieve nudged me. "So… expecting a certain hot alpha tonight?"

I shrugged. Sebastian was an alpha with responsibilities. But lately, he’d made time for me—dancing, driving me home. Still, I never assumed.

"Put it this way," I said, "if I were betting? I’d say yes."

She fanned herself. "Girl, that man is fire. You need to—"

I laughed, cutting her off. Nathaniel’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. He was the only one who knew I was saving myself for my mate.

The club’s line stretched down the block, but as regulars, we bypassed it. The bouncer waved us in, earning grumbles from the crowd.

"Looking deadly, little hellion," he said as I passed.

I groaned. "Really? You too?"

He just grinned.

Inside, the bass pulsed through my bones. Werewolf clubs didn’t have drinking laws—our metabolism burned alcohol too fast to get drunk easily. We ordered shots first. I wasn’t here to drink; I was here to move.

As I tossed back the burning liquid, icy blue eyes locked onto mine from across the room.

Son of a bitch.

I slammed my glass down. "Adrian’s here."

Nathaniel followed my gaze and whistled low. "Think he’ll come over?"

"Don’t care," I said, grabbing Genevieve’s hand. "I’m dancing."

The music swallowed me whole. Eyes closed, body swaying, I lost myself in the rhythm. Most of the dancers were warriors from my pack, so I didn’t have to worry about unwanted advances. And everyone here knew Sebastian would show up eventually.

Genevieve leaned in. "Adrian hasn’t looked away since we hit the floor. What’s his deal?"

I shrugged. "He hit on me at school yesterday."

Her jaw dropped. "No way."

"Asked my name and pack."

Her eyes bugged. "How does he not know you?"

"Guess I’m not important enough," I said dryly.

She glanced between us, then smirked. "Team Sebastian all the way."

"Damn right."

We danced through several songs, switching partners, laughing. When the first slow song started, I motioned toward the bar. Genevieve followed, but not before shooting Adrian a pointed look.

His gaze burned into my back the entire way.