Page 9 of Abandoned Oaths

Only the newbies were dumb enough to continue to challenge me, as if viewing me as the weaker sex meant they stood a chance. It never took long for them to shut up, usually only one round with me in the ring.

Those who respected me enjoyed watching me teach the younger pups where they ranked, and those who feared me were just happy for my wrath to have a new target.

“Find me someone else. I need to change,” I called to Coach as I hurried to the locker room.

The men didn’t bother covering themselves. Shifters weren’t known for their modesty. I was fairly certain a few even tried to flaunt themselves in front of me, like I’d be interested in any man whose ass I could kick with one arm behind my back.

I pulled off my tank top and leggings and stepped into my dress. I hadn’t sent it to be cleaned yet, so if I got any tears, the cleaners could fix them at the same time. Not that I anticipated anyone getting close enough to try.

When I got back to Coach’s side, he eyed me with a smirk. “Prom coming up?”

“Shut up.” I elbowed him. “This one’s harder to move in. There isn’t an easy way to get to my knife.”

One brow lifted. “Did you need it?”

“No.” I looked around, glaring down the curious glances aimed at us. “But the powder took longer than normal to kick in. I ran through my other options and realized I’d have to hike the skirt up to get to my knife. I want to practice making it look natural, just in case.”

He pointed to a guy at the speed bag. “Razor, get over here.”

Ugh. He could have picked anyone, and he went with one of my least favorite wolves? Razor earned his name because of the razor-sharp claws he preferred for his kills. He was gross, sleazy, and constantly hitting on me.

At least I wouldn’t feel too bad if I slipped and stabbed him. In the heart.

“Yeah, Coach?” He jogged over, shirtless, with his wet chest on display. He smelt like two-week-old gym socks.

“I need you to run through some scenarios with Emilia.” Coach waved toward the mats and then looked at me. “Need anything? Risers or boxes?”

Recreating the rooftop would be good, but I didn’t want to drag this out for a second longer than necessary.

“No.” I frowned at Razor and pointed to the center. “Just stand over there.”

He obeyed like a good little pup.

I moved next to him, leaving a few feet of space, so I didn’t have to breathe in his offensive odor.

“Walk me through it,” Coach said with folded arms.

“We were alone on the roof. The powder wasn’t working, and I was going through my options. I usually pick a dress with a slit, but that isn’t always possible.”

I gestured to the floor-length skirt and then lifted the hem.

“See? I’d have to pull it up to here.” I grabbed a handful of fabric up to my hip until my knife was finally visible.

A few whistles sounded, and I shot the room a death glare.

“Since we were alone, I could have done this, but it would have tipped him off. It's not exactly normal for a woman to lift her whole dress. If I couldn’t have gotten him alone, maybe only to a quiet hallway, or just a corner of the room, it wouldn’t have been possible at all.”

Coach nodded, his go to response.

“Am I really necessary?” Razor grumbled.

“Not in the least,” I replied, not bothering to look at him.

“Yes. Now shut up.” Coach shook his head, but I caught a tiny smirk. He circled us twice before stopping. “An ankle holster? You could pretend to need to fix your shoe or hem?”

I unstrapped it from my thigh and made it as tight as possible around my ankle. I’d have to switch it for a proper one, but this was good enough for practice. The dress covered it, but what about when I walked?

I stood on the balls of my feet, replicating heels, and walked a few yards in every direction before turning back to face them. “Could you see anything?”

---