Becoming Alpha (19 page)

Interesting. I tucked that piece of info away for future reference. “What does that mean?”

“Alpha rules the pack.”

He didn’t add anything else to that little gem. I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by “rules the pack.” In what way? And to what extent? I’d save those questions for Meredith. She’d give me some real answers.

Chris stopped when we were at the opposite corner from everyone else. We spent the next ten minutes stretching every muscle—hamstrings, calves, shoulders—which gave me plenty of time
to work up my fair share of nerves. Trying something new with an audience was not something I ever aspired to do.

“Feeling loose?” Chris said as he stood on one foot, stretching his quad.

I dropped my foot to the ground. “I guess?”

Sounds of light sparring filled the gym. I scanned the room, and caught a few pairs of eyes watching me, but thankfully not everyone was staring. I tried to avoid glancing at Dastien, but was drawn to the jerk. He was walking through the sparring pairs, giving notes and encouragement. When he reached Imogene, I turned away. That was one train wreck I wouldn’t watch. The whole jealousy feeling was new to me, and I didn’t care for it at all.

“This is a basic fighting stance.” Chris’ voice dragged my attention to the problem at hand.

I copied him, placing my feet shoulder width apart and raising my hands. Chris circled around me, moving my feet into the “correct” stance. He twisted my shoulders a bit. “When you punch with your right hand, you want your right shoulder to be pulled back a bit. Then, as you punch, follow through with it.”

I nodded like that made sense, but I had no idea what he was talking about. The weird part was that he wasn’t joking or winking or smiling. That thing with Dastien had really gotten to him. He circled around me one more time then pointed to my gloves. “You might have some strange fashion thing going on, but the gloves have to go. You can’t fight in them.”

“Sure I can. What harm are they really doing?”

“I can’t quite tell how you’re holding your fingers. We’re going to start punching and I don’t want you to break anything.”

Against my better judgment, I pulled them off and tucked them into my waistband.

Chris grabbed two hand targets from the other side of the gym. His shoulders were still hunched over.

It wasn’t any of my business what went on between Dastien and Chris, but I felt responsible. I had to try to fix it. “I can’t stand the way you’re acting,” I said.

He put the pads over his hands. “Look. I like you, but I can’t fight Dastien and win.” He stared at the pads as he talked.

What? Who said anything about Chris and Dastien fighting? “Why would you have to fight?”

“Dastien seems to have claimed you and—”

“Claimed me? What the hell does that mean?” I tapped my foot. No one was claiming me except me.

“I forgot for a second how new you are to this.” I groaned, but he continued on before I could bitch about the lack of explaining going on. “We mate for life. Once you’ve been claimed, that’s it. We all know that there’s more guys than girls and—”

He was missing the point entirely. “Excuse me but I do believe I’m living in the age of equal rights for women. This claiming stuff isn’t going to fly with me.”

“It’s not like that. I’m explaining this wrong.” He started messing with the pads. “We just have a different way of viewing relationships than norms.”

“Well, you boys are just going to have to deal where I’m concerned because I’m not getting claimed. I’ll do the claiming when and if the time ever comes.” I pulled my hair free from the band, shook it out, and sloppily put it back up.

Why were werewolves so confusing? And Christ, my life was majorly messed up if I was pondering the degree of confusion werewolves were causing in my life.

Still, I wanted to put a stop to whatever pain Chris was feeling. “Look. I’m not trying to be a bitch about it, so I’m sorry if I am being one. I like you and—”

He finally looked up. A lazy smile spread across his face. “You do?”

Oh, no. Now I’d really done it. I didn’t mean I
liked
him liked him. “I mean I don’t—” Dastien growled and I could physically fell his anger pulsing through me. The pain took my breath away. I cried out, silencing the room.

I hit the ground on my knees and rubbed my chest. My heart actually ached. Dastien watched us with golden eyes. The expression on his face matched the pain I felt. But how was I feeling his pain? I wasn’t even touching him.

He stomped out of the gym, slamming the door behind him.

“I’m going to go make sure he’s okay,” Imogene said over the now silent gym. She said it sweetly, but the look she gave me was nothing nice.

Shit. Somehow I’d made a complete ass out of myself. This was not what I’d intended at all.

Chris knelt beside me. “Are you okay? What just happened?”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Dastien’s feelings faded when he left. He thought I was hitting on Chris, and that had hurt him. I was pond scum, total bottom feeding cockroach, for making him feel that much pain. I’d really stepped in it this time. There was no way out of it without hurting Chris’ feelings. I couldn’t set him straight right then. Not while everyone was watching.

I straightened and let go of the last lingering of anger and hurt. “Can we just, you know, have some fun doing this? I’m seriously nervous and everyone is staring now that Dastien…” I motioned to the doors.

“Don’t worry about them. You’re going to do fine. No one’s expecting you to be Jet Li on your first day.”

Shannon and Meredith went back to sparring in the middle of the gym. Shannon did a back flip to avoid Meredith’s sweeping leg. She landed on her feet, and then kicked. Meredith grabbed Shannon’s foot and twisted, sending Shannon spiraling to the ground.

They were amazing. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to do that.”

“We train from the time we can walk. We might not be able to shift till we’re teenagers, but our reflexes and strength are never as bad as a human’s. You’ll catch up.”

“You don’t know me well enough to say that. With my luck, I’ll miss those pad things and hit you in the face.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

I tried to stand how Chris showed me. I needed to get out of class with the minimum amount of embarrassment. “This is so lame.” I lightly tapped the pad with my fist.

“Oh, come on,” Chris said. “Just do it.”

“Okay, okay. Fine. But if I look like an idiot, it’s your fault. I’m not taking any of the blame.”

“Deal. You don’t know what you’re capable of yet, so don’t limit yourself. Pretend that my hand is your worst enemy. The person who was the meanest to you. The one you dream about destroying.” He slapped the pads together and then held them out again. “Hit it!”

For a second, I pictured the face of my ex-best friend from second grade—the one who started the nickname Freaky Tessa and spilled to everyone what I could do—but I wasn’t that angry with her anymore.

The face morphed into Imogene’s. Anger raged through me.

I got back in the stance and glared at the hand target. I put my whole body behind the punch, following through with my shoulder and twisting at the waist like Chris had shown me. As soon as my knuckles hit, I knew something was wrong but it was too late to pull back.

Chris flew three feet and slammed into the wall. The boom reverberated through the gym over the other sparring noises as he crumpled to the floor.

Dread swamped me. What had I done?

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” I kneeled next to him. Chris’ eyes were closed. “Wake up. Please. Please…”

He started laughing.

“Jerk.” I shoved his shoulder into the ground. “This is so not funny. I thought I killed you.”

He grinned. “Come on. It’s kind of funny.” He jumped up and grabbed me around the waist like I weighed no more than a teddy bear. “My little wolfie,” he said as he spun us around in a circle.

I growled and smacked his shoulder.

He gave me a squeeze. “Don’t think that this is going to get you out of doing more reps.”

Maybe he really had hit his head. “No way. I’ll kill you next time for sure. I don’t know if you know this, but I am kind of super strong.”

“I hate to break it to you, babe, but you took me by surprise and I went with the hit. Just a little drama to up the fun level.” He winked.

The gym doors swung open and Mr. Dawson strode in wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. “Dastien is sitting the rest of this class out.” A series of groans echoed through the gym. More than a few people glanced my way.

Go ahead people. Blame the new kid. Not like Dastien had any responsibility in this whole situation.

“Settle down,” Mr. Dawson said. “You’ll be stuck with me for the next few days. I hear you haven’t done your running yet. One hundred laps people. Now.”

“One hundred. Is he serious?” I slapped a hand over my mouth. Oops. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Totally. You never know what to expect when Mr. D teaches the class. He’s really good at kicking our butts,” Chris said.

“How far is that? This gym is massive.”

“It’s about the size of four basketball courts put together and then some. Nine-ish laps is about a mile.”

So eleven miles. That’s nearly a half marathon. Axel and I ran nearly every morning before school, but only three miles. On a good day we hit five. This was a whole different ballpark. “This is nuts.”

“Too much talking. Not enough running,” Mr. Dawson said.

At least we weren’t doing it outside. It was way too hot and humid to be running out there. I settled into a comfortable pace next to Chris. Something about the sound of everyone’s feet slapping the wood was pleasant. It took me a minute to realize that we were all running in sync, every footfall matching. I stumbled, breaking the rhythm.

Chris grabbed me before I fell.

My feet matched the rest of the class again. “This is very
Village of the Damned
.”

“What?”

“You know that horror movie where those kids all look the same and do the same thing. We’re running in perfect sync. Exactly matching Mr. Dawson.”

“That’s part of being a pack. If we were racing, then we wouldn’t match, but when you’re a pack it’s comfortable to move as one.”

I made a face. “I never agreed to join any pack.”

“Well…kinda, through Dastien, who is part of our pack.”

Mr. Dawson sped up, and we met his faster pace.

“Does everyone. Join the pack?” It was getting harder to talk.

“Pretty much.”

“What if. I don’t want to?”

“You’re a girl. You kind of have to.”

I growled. Werewolves were kind of sexist. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Relax.” He bumped me on the shoulder. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, well, haven’t you noticed the ratio?”

I let my silence speak for me.

“Not a lot of girls are born. That’s why Imogene thinks she’s so special. Her mom had two girls, which is unheard of. Those two think they’re the shit because of it. Anyway, it’s about a ten to one ratio. We take care of our women, and they’re never without a pack.”

I gave him a sideways glance, hoping he got the point. He was bringing out the feminist in me again and there wasn’t that much ra-ra feminism in me to begin with.

“Look. There are tons of packs to choose from. All over the world.”

Mr. Dawson sped up the pace again.

“You. Don’t have. To choose. Now.”

I was too winded to respond, but I didn’t like where he was going with this.

The call of the pack slid over my skin, urging me to stay in step with everyone else. It took me a couple of tries to get my footfalls to break their beat. It wasn’t that I had anything against the pack stuff, but I didn’t like the idea of having someone dictate my moves, even if it was just the way I was running.

“What. Are. You doing?” Chris said.

I couldn’t answer him. Staying on the offbeat took all my concentration. I forced my legs to move faster until I was next to Mr. Dawson. Whispers followed in my wake. I was gasping as I reached him.

“You’re just full of surprises,” Mr. Dawson said with a smirk.

I matched his pace, but made sure my feet hit the ground just before his did.

Ninety-seven.

A drop of sweat rolled off my nose as I straightened my arms, completing a push-up.

Ninety-eight.

My arms felt like jell-o. I was losing form, and my lower back was starting to ache.

Ninety-nine.

I collapsed down on the ground. The grass felt cool on my hot cheek.

It hadn’t taken that long to finish the laps around the gym with the pace Mr. Dawson set. He wasn’t done with our torture by any means. As soon as we were done running, he took us outside next to the Cazadores track. I’d already done more sit-ups than I’d done in my entire life, a cool 124 and a half before I gave up. I was counting that half. I’d earned it. But the rest had done over 500. They were beasts. No wonder they all had amazing bodies.

Everyone was still trucking along, like there was nothing to 200 push-ups. Their bodies moved to the ground and up together.

I rolled onto my side facing Chris and massaged my biceps. “I can’t do it. I can’t do one more freaking push-up.” Triple digits wasn’t something humanly possible. Or Tessa-possible.

Chris looked over at me, pausing an inch from the ground. “What are you? A girl?” Chris pushed himself off the ground, clapped once, before landing, and did it again.

“Oh, come on! Are you for real?” I shoved him.

“Hey! Watch it!” Shannon said as Chris tumbled into her.

A throat cleared above me. “Trouble, pups?”

I rolled myself up and sat on my heels. “Not anymore. I’m almost breathing normally again.”

He crossed his arms.

“I can’t do one more, Mr. Dawson. My arms have turned into cooked spaghetti noodles. And they’re shaking.” I held them out.

His mouth set in a firm line.

“I’m not used to this. It’s a miracle I lasted this long.” My stomach growled. “And I’m starving. There’s no telling what could happen, and I don’t want to be responsible for any more disruptions today.”