CHAPTER 9: CLOSE CALL
681words
A week passed in a blur of classes, training, and careful deception. Each morning, I woke before dawn to apply scent neutralizer and adjust my bindings. Three days a week, I trained with Coach Thorne, who pushed me relentlessly. The other mornings, Damon continued our impromptu sessions, helping me improve my technique.
My body ached constantly, but I was growing stronger. More importantly, I was blending in. The novelty of being the new student had worn off, and I'd settled into a comfortable routine with Noah and a few other first-years.
Until today.
"Combat pairs!" Coach Thorne announced. "We're practicing takedowns. Silver, you're with Blackwood."
My heart stuttered. I'd successfully avoided close physical contact with Damon during our training sessions, but takedowns meant grappling—dangerous territory for someone hiding both gender and Omega status.
Damon approached, already in stance. "Ready, Sock Boy?"
I nodded, throat dry. "Don't go easy on me."
"Wouldn't dream of it." His smile was all predator, and something in my stomach fluttered that had nothing to do with fear.
Coach demonstrated the technique—a simple leg sweep followed by controlled descent to pin the opponent. When practiced correctly, it was efficient and relatively gentle. When done by an Alpha on an Omega... potentially disastrous.
"Begin!" Thorne called.
Damon circled me, his movements fluid and confident. I mirrored him, keeping distance between us. When he finally moved, it was almost too fast to track—a feint to my left, then a swift step to sweep my right leg.
I anticipated it, jumping slightly to avoid the sweep, but his follow-up was immediate. His arm hooked around my waist, and suddenly I was airborne, then flat on my back with Damon above me, his body a cage over mine.
Time froze. His face hovered inches from mine, eyes wide with something I couldn't read. The mate bond flared between us, electric and undeniable. Worse, in this position, with his weight partially on me, the binding around my chest compressed painfully, and I couldn't suppress a small gasp.
Damon's nostrils flared slightly, a brief look of confusion crossing his features.
"Good takedown, Blackwood," Coach Thorne called, breaking the moment. "Again, but give Silver a chance to practice the defense this time."
Damon rolled off me, extending a hand to help me up. I took it reluctantly, the contact sending another jolt through my system.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Fine," I managed, though my heart raced. "Just had the wind knocked out of me."
"Sorry about that," he said, though he didn't look particularly sorry. "Ready to try the defense?"
We reset our positions. This time, I was ready for his attack, stepping back at the crucial moment and attempting the counter-move Thorne had demonstrated. It was partially successful—I disrupted Damon's balance, but my follow-through lacked power. Instead of taking him down, I merely pushed him off-center.
He recovered instantly, using my momentum against me. Once again, I found myself pinned, this time with my face pressed to the mat and Damon's weight carefully distributed above me.
"Better," he murmured near my ear, his breath warm against my neck. "But you're still thinking too much."
I squirmed, desperate to create distance. "Let me up."
He complied immediately, stepping back with a casual shrug. For the remainder of class, we practiced the moves with less intensity, focusing more on technique than full-contact execution.
When class ended, I rushed to the locker room, locking myself in a bathroom stall to check my binding. The wraps had shifted during the takedowns, and I carefully readjusted them, heart still pounding from the close contact.
Noah was waiting when I emerged. "Tough break getting paired with Blackwood," he said sympathetically. "Guy's a machine."
"Yeah," I agreed, forcing a smile. "At least I learned something."
"Like how the floor tastes?" He grinned. "Come on, we'll be late for Pack Law."
Throughout the afternoon classes, I couldn't focus. The memory of Damon's body against mine kept replaying in my mind. The mate bond complicated everything, making it harder to maintain distance, harder to remember why I needed to.
