Chapter 133: Training Instructor
*** AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sorry my updates are again, unreliable. But I’ve had groundbreaking inspiration with the new book I’ve been slowly working on. Sneak Peak of the cover in the comments. Also Don’t forget to check out the character images, as always, I love changing them around on you guys, because gotta keep it interesting. Go VOTE on your favorites. Tell me what you think of their personalities. Thank you for coming to my novel narrative ***
~ODETTE’S POV~
I was skeptical at first of Raven, naturally. After the last time I trusted her olive branch. This time, my senses were on high alert. My mind jotted down her every move, from the way she walked to the way her facial muscles moved.
Phera seemed as calm as ever, clearly wasn’t sensing any danger from Raven, and her sense were sharper considering she’s from a different realm.
Emalea just sat in the backseat, looking a little uncomfortable with the awkward silence that was filling the car.
We pulled up to a large brick building with white window shutters and two large wooden doors at the entrance.
"Wow, this schools... Huge..." Emalea spoke just above a whisper.
"It’s not the biggest school, but it’s one of the best. If I wasn’t undercover observing Odette, I would have gone here." Raven mentions.
"How were you a child when your parents died in the massacre?" I asked, she was older, why was she in school with me?
"I had my paperwork doctored. It was easy considering everything was destroyed in the attack. So as far as American schools were concerned, I am the same age as you." She grinned with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"Wow, all this trouble for lil’ ol’ me." I mocked.
"Yep, and it worked. Better than you could have imagine, dinnit?" She mocked me back
But she was right, and I don’t know if it was worse for me meeting the comment with silent validation. But I couldn’t argue against it.
"And... That’s what I thought." Raven pulled up the doors and inside was a hall filled with pictures of different people. Glass case cabinets with trophies and memorabilia. The school was nice, all the pristine class of vintage with the upkeep that screamed privileged funding.
We walked into the main office and signed us all in, pulling out a badge.
"Hello, Miss Raven. It’s good to see you again, you’re not scheduled today, what brings you in?" The woman behind the desk asked.
"I brought... an acquaintance with me today, she’s a class A experienced fighter. I used to fight her back in school, and she beat me more times than I won. She has firsthand real combat experience in fighting rogues as well." Raven continued "I remember you guys asking if I knew anyone who wanted a temp position? Here." Raven stepped aside showcasing me, in my plain black clothes and warm winter jacket.
"Oh yes, please, here let me get you the paperwork." The woman scurried around the office space looking for something.
"Ha found it!" She yelled grabbing a yellow folder and bringing it over to us. "Fill this out and sign it and we’ll take you to the kids in combat classes. The pay isn’t a lot, but it’s not bad for working only an hour and it’s 200 for the hour. Is that good?" She was all smiles as she looked at.
"Yes." I took the paperwork and filled it all out, dating and signing the bottom.
The training hall was wide, the mats smelled like pain and sweat, the kind of scent that stuck no matter how hard you scrub.
Bright florescent light, casted cold and uninviting across the room, highlighting the students who sat cross legged in neat rows. They ranged from about thirteen to seventeen years young. They were already buzzing with excited energy. Their body position were straight, and their eyes sharp.
The head instructor introduced me with a fake smile, clearly not sure what to make of me, the pale girl with a weird smell. "This," he announced, "is Miss Odette. She has... considerable experience in combat. Tonight, she will demonstrate with eight of you. Remember, this is a learning exercise, not a battle to the death."
Twenty pairs of eyes fixed on me. Some curious. Some skeptical. Some openly doubtful.
Perfect.
I offered them the faintest of smiles. "Eight volunteers," I said. "And don’t all raise your hands at once."
Of course, 15 out of the 20 hands shot up immediately. I pointed at tall boy with dark hair and light honey brown eyes.
I stepped forward, rolling my shoulders loose. "Remember," I told them "this is training. I won’t break you, but I won’t let you win easy either. Watch carefully. Learn not just from your match, but from peers
The first boy bounced forward, fists clenched, his wolf practically itching under his skin. His movements screamed
This one has too much energy, and not enough thought.
He lunged with a wide, punch. I caught his wrist, pivoted, and used his momentum to whip him past me. With a sharp elbow to his ribs, sending him stumbling onto one knee.
The air was ripped out of his lungs. He gasped, blinking at me in shock.
"You’re fast," I said, crouching so we were eye level. "But not fast enough, and speed without control is wasted. Don’t wind up your punches, it gives your opponent too much warning. Tighten your form. Try again another day."
He flushed, but nodded, determination already lighting his eyes.
Next was a blonde haired girl with calm, green eyes. She didn’t rush. Instead, she circled me, light on her feet, reading me carefully. I liked her approach.
She feinted left, then swept low at my legs. I stepped aside, catching her shoulder, and redirected her weight, bringing her body down on the mat. She jumped back up quickly, back into stance with a grin.
"Better," I told her. "You looked before you leapt. That’s good. But don’t pause to think too long. A real fight won’t give you time to plan every step."
Her smile widened. She’d be dangerous once she learned to trust her instincts.
I remembered fighting in the ColdMoon Pack. How I didn’t think, I relied on instinct. Feeling the air shift when people would move. How there was no time to think, only time to act.
A tall boy strolled onto the mat; a smirk plastered on his face. He cracked his knuckles. All the arrogance and cockiness of an alpha rank. "This won’t take long."
I smirked back. "You’re right about that."
The cocky ones were always the most fun.
He charged first, of course, putting all his strength into one big punch. I ducked under, swept his legs, kicking them out from under him. I watched him sprawl on the mat with a loud thud. Laughter broke out among the other kids in class.
He scrambled up, cheeks red, glaring.
He was big mad.
Oops.
"Strength isn’t enough," I said firmly with a hint of mocking tone. "Without precision, you’ll always fall. Remember that."
He scoffed, rolling his eyes.