Chapter 37: Chapter 37
One week later.
The alarm on my phone screamed at 5 AM, and I seriously considered throwing it out the window.
"Nope. Not happening." I groaned into my pillow, my body still remembering every single place Christian had touched me last night. Which was... a lot of places. None of them nearly enough.
Maria burst through my door without knocking, flipping on every light like some kind of morning terrorist.
"Up! Connor Walsh waits for no one, and you’re about to get your ass handed to you by Shadow Ridge’s finest warriors."
"I hate you right now."
"You’ll thank me later when you’re not dead." She tossed training clothes at my face. "Also, Christian already texted me three times asking if you’re awake. He’s adorable when he’s worried."
I changed faster than I thought possible, my wolf already stirring with anticipation. Fighting. Training. Proving myself. This was what I’d been waiting for.
The outdoor training grounds looked like something out of a military boot camp—wooden dummies that had seen better days, weapon racks loaded with scary-looking stuff, and a sand-filled sparring ring that had "pain" written all over it.
Connor Walsh stood in the center like some scarred warrior statue, arms crossed, expression blank.
"You’re two minutes late."
"I’m two minutes early according to my—"
"My clock is the only clock that matters. Drop and give me twenty."
I stared at him. "Are you serious right now?"
"Do I look like I’m joking?" Connor’s scarred face didn’t move. "Pushups. Now."
Jessica appeared at my elbow, already in position. "Just do it. He’s like this with everyone."
Twenty pushups later—which turned into fifty because Connor was apparently Satan—I was already sweating, and the actual training hadn’t even started.
"You’ll observe for three days," Connor announced to the assembled warriors. Twelve of them, all looking at me like I was either entertainment or a problem. "Learn our techniques. Study our forms. Then we see if you can actually fight or if you’re just another pretty face trying to play Luna."
"Wow. Motivational speeches aren’t your thing, huh?"
Connor’s lips twitched. Might’ve been a smile. Hard to tell with all the scar tissue.
For the next two hours, I watched Jessica demolish practice dummies with moves that made my wolf sit up and pay attention. Shadow Ridge fighters moved differently than Tom’s pack—more fluid, more aggressive, like they expected every fight to be their last and planned to make it count.
I caught myself mirroring their stances without thinking, my body remembering things my brain couldn’t.
"You’ve got good instincts," Jessica said during a water break. "Better than most newcomers."
"Yeah, well, instincts don’t mean much if I can’t back them up."
"You will." She grinned. "I’ve got a good feeling about you, Sophie. And my gut is usually right about these things."
That’s when Jake Stevens decided to make his entrance.
The guy was built like a tank and moved like he knew it. He spent ten minutes executing these insane aerial kicks against a practice dummy, muscles flexing, sweat gleaming, putting on a whole show.
All while training about five feet from where I stood.
Connor’s voice cut through the noise. "Jake. Are you training or auditioning for a calendar?"
A few warriors snickered. Jake’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop showing off.
My wolf growled low in my chest. This guy was trying to intimidate me, and honestly? It was working a little.
I felt Christian before I saw him.
That sandalwood and cedar scent hit me like a physical thing, and suddenly my entire body was awake in ways that had nothing to do with training. I turned to find him standing at the edge of the grounds, arms crossed, hazel eyes locked on me like I was the only person in the entire world.
Every warrior noticed. How could they not? Their Alpha was staring at me like he wanted to devour me whole.
"Alpha Christian," Connor said, not sounding remotely surprised. "Twice in one morning. Should I be concerned?"
"Just checking on training progress." Christian’s voice was rough, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Uh-huh." Connor definitely smiled that time. "Training’s going fine. Your mate has good instincts."
The word "mate" hung in the air like a bomb.
"Sophie," Connor called. "In the ring."
Oh god.
Jessica squeezed my shoulder. "Just light sparring. Feel it out."
I climbed into the sand-filled ring, my heart hammering. Jessica followed, moving with that warrior grace I was desperately trying to copy.
"Defense first," she said. "I’ll come at you slowly, see how you react."
She threw a punch—not slow at all, what a liar—and my body moved before my brain caught up. I dodged left, felt the air displacement, and pivoted on instinct.
Jessica grinned. "Again."
This time she came faster. My wolf surged forward, feeding me information—body positioning, weight distribution, and the slight telegraph before each strike. I blocked, dodged, and actually managed to deflect one hit.
"Holy shit," Jessica breathed. "Sophie, where did you learn to move like that?"
"I... I don’t know." And I really didn’t. My body knew things I couldn’t remember learning.
Connor’s eyes narrowed, studying me with uncomfortable intensity. "Interesting. That countermove—that’s Northern Pack technique. Advanced level."
I froze. "What?"
"Tom’s pack doesn’t teach those forms." Connor crossed his arms. "So where’d you learn it?"
Every warrior was staring now. Christian’s scent spiked with something sharp and curious.
"I don’t know," I repeated, feeling exposed and confused. "My wolf just... does things."
Connor nodded slowly. "Continue."
Jessica and I went three more rounds. Each time, my body responded with skills I shouldn’t have. Moves I’d never practiced. Knowledge that came from somewhere deep and locked away.
By the time Connor called time, I was breathing hard but exhilarated. I could do this. I could actually fight.
That’s when Elder Sarah showed up with Elder Thompson, both looking like they’d sucked on lemons.
"Connor," Elder Sarah’s voice dripped with fake concern. "I’m worried this unauthorized training might be dangerous for pack safety."
"I’m the pack trainer." Connor’s tone went flat. "I determine what’s dangerous. And she’s not a danger."
"Perhaps not a physical danger," Elder Thompson said carefully. "But Alpha Christian has visited these grounds twice this morning. Some might say his attention is... divided."
Christian moved so fast I barely saw it. One second he was at the edge of the grounds, the next he was in front of the elders, his Alpha presence rolling over everyone like a wave.
"Careful," Christian’s voice dropped to that Alpha rumble. "Be very careful how you finish that sentence."
Elder Sarah actually stepped back.
"You want to assess Luna Sophie?" Jake’s voice cut through the tension. "Let me test her. Full-contact bout. See if she can actually handle Shadow Ridge combat."
Connor shook his head. "She needs observation time first—"
"Pack tradition," Jake interrupted. "Any warrior can request evaluation of leadership candidates. It’s in the old laws."
Elder Thompson nodded reluctantly. "He’s correct. Though I’d advise against—"
"I accept."
