Chapter 121: Sparring pt2
~ODETTE’S POV~
"There she is." He wiped a his mouth and stretched his jaw out some.
Smug, cocky, bastard.
The next time I lunged, he caught me mid swing. His fingers clamped around my wrist, twisting hard. With a sharp jerk, he dragged me down with him, and we hit the dirt in a mess of limbs, looking like an angry game of twister. His weight pressed on top of me like a mountain, pinning me beneath him, his knee digging into my hip.
Heat rose in my core. My body betraying me only made me madder.
"I can smell what you’re feeling, I feel the same. The smell of your pheromones sends my wolf into a frantic tizzy." His words dripped to amusement and intrigue.
I moved hard and fast, twisting, teeth gritted against the pressure. He braced himself, but I felt his weight shift, just barely. I took advantage of it. With a snarl, I twisted my hips, rolling us over in one fluid motion until I was straddling him, my hand slamming into his chest.
His chest rose beneath my hands, solid. My hair had fallen loose, spilling around my face, and I caught the way his eyes glowed, his wolf hanging just below the surface. He looked up at me. His lips parted, and for a moment, I forgot the fight.
"Better," he murmured, voice low, almost dangerous. But he was holding back now, his restraint tested brutally.
The sound of his voice snapped me out of my daze. I drew back and punched him square in the chest, hard enough to make the air huff from his lungs. "Don’t you dare talk to me like that, I’m not some pup, I’m a freaking princess with 13 years of intense training in hand to hand combat."
He grinned anyway, lying flat beneath me, looking annoyingly satisfied. Enjoying himself way too much.
By now, sweat dripped down my temples, slicking my palms. My arms ached, but the adrenaline burned deeper in me, carrying me forward. We circled, both breathing hard, both waiting for the other to slip.
I lunged first, again, throwing my fists, pouring my anger into every strike. He blocked, fast, his forearms and hands snapping up to deflect each blow. He was still testing me; I could see it in his eyes. Still amused. Still annoying.
Finally, my left hook slipped past his guard. My knuckles connected with his jaw in a sharp crack, snapping his head to the side. His teeth bared in a grin as he turned back to me, lip split, blood gleaming at the corner of his mouth.
"That’s my girl!" he yelled proudly.
I froze for a second, chest heaving, torn between satisfied and the strange pulse that spread in my chest at his words. I hated him for it. Hated that he could praise me and make me feel stronger, even when I wanted to break him.
"Shut up," I spat, lunging again.
He moved faster than I expected. One second, I was swinging at him, the next he caught my arm mid strike and surged forward. His momentum carried us across the ground, slamming me back against the wooden post at the edge of the training space. The impact rattled through me, and before I could recover, his forearm pressed across my collarbone, pinning me there.
"Yield," he said, voice rough, eyes glittering with challenge.
"Never." The word ripped out of me like a growl.
I slammed my forehead forward, straight into his face. The crack echoed, and he hissed cursing from what I assume was pain, stumbling back with his nose bleeding. I slipped free instantly, rolling my shoulders, grinning despite the throbbing sting in my own head.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, laughter spilling out even as blood caked on his mouth. "You’re insane."
"You asked for it." My grin widened, sharp with triumph.
He licked his lip, tasting the blood, and his smile turned hungry. "And I wouldn’t have it any other way."
The last fight was intense and complete chaos. No strategy, no patience, just fists, knees, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. My knuckles were raw, his lip split wider, and still we moved like neither of us would stop until the other broke.
I ducked his punch, slamming my fist into his ribs. He grunted, grabbed my arm, twisted me around, and tried to haul me to the ground. I dug my heels in, refusing to fall. We collided again, grappling, his arm hooked around my shoulders, my hand twisted in his shirt.
For a heartbeat, we were locked together, breaths mingling, teeth bared. Then I used his momentum, twisting, and slammed him into a headlock. We both dropped to our knees, dirt grinding under us, my arm locked tight around his throat.
"Say it," I demanded, sweat dripping down my temples.
His laugh rumbled against me, deep and amused even as he struggled in my hold. "Fine," he said at last, voice low, rough. "I yield."
I released him, shoving him back. He sprawled onto the ground, flat on his back, still smiling up at me like I’d just given him everything he wanted.
And damn him, I almost smiled back.
"Stop smiling like that." I groaned, feeling sore from the intense fight. I will admit, I do feel better after breaking his nose.
"No, I can’t. I don’t think you understand how happy I am, right now. Even with the pain." He laughed. His smile was so wide in this moment, and it wasn’t just his lips that he was using to smile, it was also his eyes.
"Well, it’s unnerving to see you smile like that after I just broke your nose." I was glaring from the side at him questionably and through narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.
"With your forehead no less." He was still smirking.
I pushed myself off the ground. Dusting the dirt off my legs, back side and arms. He really knew how to get under my skin, even with little the little things.
"Do you feel better now?" He asked me with a cocky undertone.
"No." I said flatly. Denying that I did.
He chuckled. Amused by me, apparently. Intrigued by my denial.
"If you say so." He shrugged, "So, you have rest of the day to do whatever you want, what’s your plan?" He got off the ground and did the same.
"I’ll go get Phera, and then I’ll probably bug Em or maybe find Ariel and ask about Evie." I missed the girl and was wondering about her coming here. She said she wanted to study and become powerful and beautiful. Maybe I can help with that.
"You seem to be making friends." Ambrose noted. He sounded happy about that. Which made me feel good, like a part of me was doing what my mother so desperately wanted. Be friendly and make friends.
Funny how it started off as a survival tool, and it’s now turned into real friendships.
"I know, wild really, I’ve made more friends since you kidnapped me than I had before. Even more wild is that shifters prefer my company over my own people." I laughed inwardly at the insanity of that truth.
He frowned at my mention of his kidnapping.
"I have a meeting with the alpha twins later. Try and stay away from them, especially Alpha Andres, while you’re with Em or Ariel. Can you do that?" He seemed skeptical.
"It’s not like I want to be anywhere near them. And also, you make sure to keep them out of my way, don’t just shift all the responsibility on to me." I sounded more snappish than I intended.
But it was bull shit to make me the only party responsible for avoiding the other. If anything, it’ll be that creepy alpha that seeks me out. And then what? No, I’m not going to be the only one carrying the responsibility. Hell with that.
"If you think I don’t plan to personally warn him, you’d be mistaken." His smirk died a little, and a hint of malice danced behind his eyes.
"Warn? Or threaten?" I raised a questioning brow.
"Both." He sounded a little colder now. His dominant aura was oozing off him, surrounding me. It smelled of pine, and it tickled my senses. Why does he smell like Christmas and home?
"Good because if you don’t I will. Don’t want a visiting alpha to walk away with a broken nose, do you?" I was trying to make him laugh.
"If he deserves, I don’t care. He can walk out without a tongue and if he deserved it, well that’s that. It’s really simple." Possessiveness swirled in his eyes, but he masked it well holding a cold expression.
"True. They don’t call you ruthless for nothing, do they?"
"No, that they don’t. Maybe it’s time I remind them of why they call me ruthless, and how a 13 year old can gain the title of Alpha King and hold it." He was holding back, but I could hear it. the threat that lingered behind his words. The seriousness about his intentions.
"What are you thinking about doing?" I felt a shiver from his words.
"I am going to make an example out of him."