CHAPTER 4: DANGEROUS ATTRACTION
1256words
Combat Basics was held in a padded training room that smelled of sweat and determination. Twenty first-years lined up as Coach Thorne, a battle-scarred Beta with a perpetual scowl and a nose that had clearly been broken multiple times, paced before us.
"This isn't dance class," he barked. "This is where you learn to fight. To protect your future packs. Pair up for basic stance assessment."
Students scrambled to find partners. I hesitated, hoping to pair with someone small, but a lanky boy with glasses beat me to the smallest student. Traitor.
"You're with me," said a voice beside me. I turned to find a friendly-looking wolf with sandy hair and a smile that seemed genuine. "I'm Noah."
"Ari," I replied, relieved. Noah seemed unthreatening—tall but lean, with an easy smile.
"Western packs, right? My cousin's from there. Maybe you know the Riverstone Pack?"
I nodded vaguely, thanking Lucas for drilling me on western pack geography. "They're south of us. Known for their excellent... river stones."
Noah laughed. "And their terrible moonshine. My cousin got so drunk on it once, he shifted and couldn't change back for three days. Had to attend his math final as a wolf."
I grinned despite my nerves. "How'd that go?"
"He ate his exam paper. Got an F."
Coach Thorne demonstrated the basic fighting stance—feet shoulder-width apart, knees bent, hands up to protect the face. I mirrored Noah's position, grateful for the simple exercise.
"Not bad," Noah commented as we practiced blocking moves. "You've trained before?"
"A little," I lied. In truth, I'd watched my brothers train for years, though I'd never been allowed to join them. Being an Omega princess meant etiquette lessons, not combat training. The closest I'd come to fighting was aggressively outbidding someone for vintage shoes on eBay.
We progressed to simple strikes—jabs and crosses. I managed to copy the movements convincingly, though I lacked power behind my punches. Noah was patient, adjusting my form without comment.
"Switch partners!" Coach called after twenty minutes.
Noah moved on, and I found myself facing a stocky wolf with an eager expression. "I'm Derek," he said, bouncing on his toes like an excited puppy. "Ready to spar?"
Before I could respond, he lunged forward. I sidestepped instinctively, years of dodging my playful brothers kicking in. Derek looked surprised, then grinned.
"Quick reflexes. Good."
The next few minutes were a dance of Derek attacking while I evaded. I couldn't match his strength, but I could avoid his blows. Coach Thorne passed by, eyebrows raised.
"Silver! Less dancing, more striking. This isn't a ballroom."
Heat rushed to my face as nearby students snickered. I forced myself to throw a punch, which Derek easily blocked.
"Put your weight into it," he advised, not unkindly. "Imagine the target insulted your mother."
I tried again, focusing on technique rather than power, imagining the target was my father announcing my arranged marriage. This time, my fist connected with Derek's shoulder with surprising force.
"Whoa!" Derek rubbed his shoulder, looking impressed. "That's more like it! Where'd that come from?"
"Just... found my motivation," I muttered.
By the end of class, my arms ached and sweat soaked through my binding wraps, making them uncomfortable. I needed to adjust them, but couldn't risk the locker room.
"Decent first effort," Coach Thorne announced to the class. "Tomorrow: full assessment. Dismissed."
I hurried out, planning to return to my room before Damon. A quick shower and rebinding would help.
"Ari! Wait up."
I turned to see Noah jogging toward me. "A few of us are heading to the lake before dinner. Want to join?"
"Thanks, but I need to unpack," I said, gesturing vaguely toward the dorms.
"Sure, next time." He smiled. "You did well today, by the way. Different style than most, but effective. Like a ninja crossed with a startled cat."
I laughed. "That's... oddly specific."
"I call it like I see it." He grinned. "See you at dinner?"
I nodded, a small warmth blooming in my chest. Maybe I could make friends here after all.
Back at the room, I found it mercifully empty. I grabbed fresh clothes and locked myself in the bathroom, quickly unwrapping the binding that had grown painfully tight. Red marks crisscrossed my skin where the fabric had dug in. I'd need to be more careful tomorrow.
After a quick shower, I reapplied scent neutralizer and rewrapped my chest, wincing at the pressure. Just as I finished dressing, I heard the main door open.
"Ari? You in here?" Damon's voice called.
"Bathroom," I replied, deepening my voice. "Out in a second."
I checked my appearance once more—flat chest, baggy clothes, short hair still damp. Satisfied, I opened the door.
Damon sat on his bed, phone in hand. He looked up, those piercing blue eyes assessing me. "How was your first day? Traumatized yet?"
"Fine," I said, moving to my side of the room. "Interesting classes."
"Combat with Thorne?" When I nodded, he chuckled. "He's tough but fair. Best coach here. Though I heard you were channeling your inner ballerina."
I groaned. "News travels fast."
"Academy's worse than a sewing circle for gossip." His eyes twinkled. "But hey, there's nothing wrong with dancing. Just maybe save it for the club, not the combat ring."
An awkward silence fell. I busied myself organizing books, aware of his gaze on my back. It felt like a physical touch, sending tingles down my spine.
"Some of us are having a bonfire tonight," he finally said. "Down by the lake. You should come."
I turned, surprised by the invitation. "Why?"
He shrugged. "You're new. It's a chance to meet people." A pause. "Unless you're scared?"
The challenge in his voice triggered something in me—the same stubbornness that had gotten me into this mess.
"I'm not scared," I replied, lifting my chin. "What time?"
"Nine. I'll walk you there."
"I can find my own way."
A smile played at his lips. "Sure you can. But we're going to the same place, and I know a shortcut. Unless you're planning to use your superior navigation skills—the same ones that had you walking into the girls' bathroom this morning?"
My face flamed. "That was ONE time! The symbols were faded!"
"Uh-huh." His grin widened. "Nine o'clock, sock boy."
I threw said sock at his head. He caught it effortlessly, laughing.
"Nice arm. Maybe there's hope for you in combat after all."
He stood and stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal a strip of tanned skin and defined muscle. I looked away quickly, heat rising to my face as unwanted memories of our first meeting flashed through my mind.
"You remind me of someone," he said suddenly.
My heart stuttered. "Who?"
"Not sure." He studied me with that unnerving intensity. "Just... familiar somehow. Like déjà vu."
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He checked it, then grabbed a jacket. "Gotta run. See you at nine."
After he left, I collapsed onto my bed, heart racing. This was impossible. How could I maintain this charade for days, let alone weeks? Especially with the mate bond pulling me toward the one person I needed to avoid most.
But I had no choice. Going home meant marriage to Dominic. At least here, I had a chance at freedom—however temporary.
I just had to survive one day at a time. Starting with tonight's bonfire.
And tomorrow's physical assessment.
Moon help me.
And maybe send me some brain bleach to erase the image of naked Damon from my memory. Or don't. I'm conflicted.
