ROMAN
I couldn’t stop the small laugh that slipped out of me. Jeffery, standing there, looked like he was actually serious about sparring. He wanted to spar with me.
“Are you serious right now?” I asked.
“Of course. Show me what you’ve got,” Jeffery said.
I shifted slightly on my feet, loosening my stance, and the corner of my mouth twitched.
“Alright, fine,” I said, the words barely carrying the weight of my acceptance.
Jeffery’s eyes narrowed slightly, a small smirk forming, like he was daring me to regret agreeing. I didn’t back down.
My muscles tensed, anticipation buzzing through me as we circled each other, his movements measured.
There was a rhythm to it, a feeling that I couldn’t name but felt in my bones.
I struck first, testing him. My punch came fast enough to make him react. Jeffery moved with a fluidity that made me raise an eyebrow. He was more skilled, sure, but there was something in the way he held himself–steady, calculating–that didn’t intimidate me.
I wasn’t afraid, not really, but I was aware of him, of how he could read me, just like Alexander sometimes did. And that thought–Alexander’s presence, even absent, lingered in my mind, a shadow reminding me of mistakes I wanted to forget.
Jeffery chuckled lightly, ducking under a swing of mine and spinning to deliver a light tap to my shoulder. “Not bad,” he said casually. “What’s your training routine?”
I paused for a second, surprised by the question. My lips curved into a smirk. “You probably wouldn’t believe it,” I said, my voice low, almost teasing. “It’s… chaotic. Random. Sometimes it depends on Alpha Alexander’s mood. Sometimes I run through drills he assigns; other times I just… do what I feel I need.”
Jeffery’s brow lifted, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “He trains you personally?”
I didn’t need to say a word. I just let the silence hang, the smirk on my face saying more than words ever could. Jeffery tilted his head, the smirk on his lips widening slightly. “No wonder you’re worried about him being disappointed,” he said casually. “And no wonder some of the pack don’t like you much.”
1/3
Chapter 360
1 shook my head.
$25 Points
We continued, moving through our sparring, each exchange faster than the last. I had the instinct–raw and untamed–and it surprised him a few times.
Jeffery adjusted each time, but there were moments when I caught him off guard, when my strikes landed with more precision than I expected, even from myself.
And then it happened. I saw an opening–a brief lapse in his guard–and I moved on it, fast, almost impulsively, and managed to knock him off balance, sending him to the ground.
The satisfaction of a successful strike made my chest almost explode, a rare burst of confidence bubbling through me. I took a step closer to help him up, and then my gaze caught something I hadn’t noticed before.
A mark.
Just at the back of his neck, partially exposed now. A symbol, intricate and sharp–edged, something that made my pulse spike without warning.
I froze, caught off guard. My stomach twisted as recognition pricked at me, scraping the edges of my mind. I didn’t know why, didn’t understand what it meant, but I felt it.
My hand twitched, almost reaching toward it, like I wanted to touch the mark on his neck. I shook my head, trying to ground myself, to remember that this was just a spar, just Jeffery, just a symbol that meant nothing to me. But the pull remained, insistent and unnerving. My heartbeat spiked, but I forced myself to step back.
Jeffery straightened, brushing himself off, and I realized he had noticed. His eyes narrowed slightly. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice calm.
“Probably nothing,” I said, keeping my tone light, casual, like it was just a passing sensation. I forced a smirk onto my face, even though my insides were churning with confusion. I wanted to dismiss it, shove it away.
But even as I said it, the image lingered, sharper. The mark, the lines, the design–it pressed
into me.
Why did it look so familiar?
We continued sparring, or at least tried to. My strikes became less precise, my focus half on the match, half on his neck. Jeffery noticed the slight hesitation in my movements, the tiny shifts in my stance, the way I faltered just for a heartbeat. He moved closer, cautious, careful.
“Roman,” he said softly, almost gently, “seriously–are you okay?” His voice carried concern
2/3
! Chimper Aff
now, a subtle edge that made me want to brush it off even more.
“Yeah” I said, shaking my head slightly, forcing my gaze away from the mark. “Really. Just tired, I guess I wanted the words to land like they should–casual, dismissive, something that would close the conversation without giving him more to dig at.
But I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Umm… what’s that mark on the back of your neck?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
Jeffery glanced over his shoulder like he could see it, then lifted a hand and touched it lightly. “Oh, this?” he said, like it was nothing. “It’s just my pack mark. Shows who I’m with. Tradition, really Helps people know where you belong.”
1 raised an eyebrow. “So it’s like… an identifier?”
He shrugged, smirking, “Exactly, Nothing fancy, Every Stonevale wolf has it. Makes things easier when you’re around other wolves, or even your own pack sometimes,”
Comments
LUCK DRAW >
H
Vote
91
3/3
< Chapter 361
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
