Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
Blake laughs and shrugs. “Probably.”
“Well, fingers crossed Selene has been paying attention to my tastes and sends me a male that checks all of my boxes. And that she sends him soon.”
The back door flies open and Dawson pokes his head into the kitchen, his normal laughter gone and his stoic, warrior facade in place, and everyone in the room quiets and straightens up as his stare passes over all the gathered bodies. “What are you all doing lounging around in here? Training starts in five minutes! Get your asses out on the field!”
As one unit, we all file out of the kitchen and onto the training field behind the packhouse. I prepare myself for the icy air, the one aspect of living here I’m sure I will never adjust to, even with how beautiful the snow-flecked territory looks in the middle of winter.
The training grounds here are smaller than Crescent Lake—our territory is smaller than theirs, too, and we have fewer pack members, so it makes sense. But I hadn’t realized just how small our training area is compared to theirs until now.
Where we have one field, Crescent Lake has two that I saw, plus the forest trail Reid and I ran on yesterday. Even the training grounds in my original pack are smaller than Crescent Lake’s. It’s clear they take pride in their warriors and their training programs, investing time, money, and energy into both.
Not that Silver Ridge doesn’t. Dominic has invested plenty into the programs and facilities here. But he inherited a pack with outdated equipment and methods, and he’s had to build it all from the ground up. He has put much of his time, energy, and funds into the indoor facilities here, since we get so much snow in the winter, but the outdoor facilities need some attention.
It doesn’t matter, though. Outdated facilities can be useful, as long as the training methods aren’t as outdated and as long as those leading the trainings are invested in their warriors.
Our pack’s delta, Conor, stands at the edge of the field, ready to lead the stretches, and I fall into a spot near the front of the group, putting my phone into the pocket of my leggings. I follow the warm-up, my body on autopilot since the routine Conor uses is almost always the same, with slight variations every once in a while to check if we are paying attention and to keep us on our toes. But even with those slight differences from the normal routine, I can continue repeating the words I need to use over and over in my head so I won’t forget them.
Once the stretches are over, he orders us to run, and everyone takes off, following the usual path we use for group training. Blake makes her way to my side, and we stick with the handful of warriors at the front of the group.
“I still don’t understand why Alpha Dominic won’t grant you elite warrior status,” Blake says as we run.
“We’ve been over this before, Blake. I’ve told you why I think he won’t.”
“He claims you’re not that important to him, or at least not important enough for him to agree to settle down with you, and yet he goes all alpha-hole on you and won’t let you be a warrior because he thinks it’s too dangerous? Make it make sense, my dude.”
I laugh. “Hey, I don’t know for sure that is why. I’m going off my gut instinct. But don’t worry. He won’t be able to keep me out of these ranks for much longer.”
Blake looks at me and raises a brow. “Oh?”
I smile at her and shake my head. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Can’t wait,” she says with a wink before turning her attention back to our workout.
We finish the rest of the run in silence, and as we round the last bend of the path back to the training field, I feel the weight of eyes on me, of someone watching me. I know it is Dominic—there isn’t anyone else in the pack who would watch me with that level of intensity—but I ignore it and push myself into a full sprint for the last leg of the run, keeping pace with Troy, the top warrior of the pack.
“Nice work,” Troy says when we reach the water jugs.
“You too,” I reply, grabbing a cup and filling it.
That heavy gaze burns my skin, but I continue to pretend I don’t notice. I see Dominic out of the corner of my eye, standing next to Dawson with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed, and his pupils dilated, his hand gripping his upper arm. His aura leaks from him, forcing those nearest him to bare their necks and scamper away.
“I wonder what has the alpha so riled up this morning?” Troy asks, gesturing at Dominic with his chin.
I don’t spare Dominic a glance. I continue to sip my water and pull my ankle up behind me to stretch my quad. “Either something crawled up his butt, or he’s upset he hasn’t had a good fuck since I stopped sleeping with him.”
Troy’s lips twitch, and he tosses his cup into the recycling bin. “That’s harsh.”
“Harsh but true,” I say.
I toss my cup in the bin as well and look around the gathered warriors as everyone pairs off to spar. Beta Dawson and Delta Conor let us pick our first partner for training, then they usually assign partners for the second round.
Blake makes eye contact with me, but I shake my head. Not today. I want to catch Dominic’s attention. I need him to know I’m not playing his games. Not anymore.
“Troy!” I say, calling after him as he moves across the field.
“Yeah?” he asks, turning to look at me.
“Want to pair up?”
He purses his lips, and his eyes flick over towards where Dominic stands with Dawson and Conor. His weight shifts from one leg to the other, and I can picture the wheels in his head spinning, can feel him weighing the positives and negatives of agreeing to spar with me, figuring out whether the challenge he knows he’ll get by working out with me will be worth the potential backlash from our alpha.
He nods, gesturing me forward. “Yeah. All right.”
I jog after him towards the corner of the field nearest the packhouse and wave at Blake, who has paired off with Patrice.
Troy and I get into position. I don’t need to see Dominic to know his jaw is clenched and twitching, his hands are in fists, and the vein in his forehead is pulsing. We’re too far away from him to feel his alpha aura, but the tension among the warriors is high, with everyone worried they’re the reason Dominic is pissed.
Their worry is needless, though. I am the sole focus of his glare, the sole reason for his wrath.
Dawson blows his whistle, and everyone on the field begins their fights. Some pairs finish in mere seconds, while others last longer.
Troy gets me into a chokehold, but I stomp on his instep and elbow him in his diaphragm, knocking the wind from him and forcing him to loosen his hold. I twist myself out of his grip and knee him in the groin, but before I can make contact, he knocks me to the ground with his shoulder in my midsection.
I guess I misjudged the level of his breathlessness. Or he’s better at faking than I remember.
My back hits the grass with a thud, and my breath leaves my body in a cloud of warm, foggy air in the almost freezing temperatures. I gasp and close my eyes, clenching my teeth against the pain in my ribs and my head from the impact.
I’m about to push Troy off me—I still have some strength left—but before I can, he’s tossed aside, a growl echoing over the entire training field.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dominic roars.
I sit up, ready to defend Troy, to tell Dominic I was the one who asked him to be my partner. But Dominic’s eyes are on me, not Troy.
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?