Page 129 of Mated to the Wolves

The days of being a subpar pack member ended when I took Fenrir’s mark. Lifting my head high, I push the door open and stroll inside. Each man has his section claimed.

“Today, we’re going to start with endurance. Let’s see where your limits are.” Cadoc looks like the slightly sadistic PE teacher every girl had a crush on.

The one you loathed because he pushed your physical limits and looked gorgeous doing it. I’m trying not to drool over the muscular frame on display in his black tank and gray sweatpants.

I stare at the outline of his thick cock. This man could make a paper bag look couture.

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I want you to run.”

That’s easy enough.

I glance over at the treadmill. “At what speed?”

“From me, in the forest.” He steps forward.

“What?” The thought of returning to the forest ratches up my anxiety.

“In the forest. Try not to get caught,” He repeats.

My stomach knots.

Bo opens the doors that lead outside. “Better take the head start, Princess. His legs are longer than yours.”

Kirk gives me a reassuring nod. “You’ve got this,” He mouths.

Taking control of the fear, I set off, sprinting down the center of the room and out the back door. Life doesn’t happen behind four walls and the outdoors are a wolf’s true home.

I won’t let my attacker ruin that for me. My feet pound over the ground. Scanning the forest, I look for openings.

Branches brush against my skin. I weave my way through narrow spaces. I need to be smart, not just fast.

Zig Zagging, I listen for Cadoc’s heavier footfalls. Sticks crack. He barrels after me. Dread rises. I shove it back down.

I have to remain clear-headed to survive. This is practice, next time might not be. I head deeper into the trees. The light coming through the thick canopy overhead flickers the tighter they grow together.

The temperature drops and the silence overwhelms me. He’s gone from chasing to hunting. Heart in my throat, I seek places to hide. I’m in the open right now.

Straining to hear any movement, I slow down, my brain working overtime.

I run for the large pine, kneeling to scramble beneath the undergrowth. Halfway in, a hand wraps around my ankle and I scream.

“Don’t panic. Think through it. Where am I vulnerable?” Cadoc instructs me. Bracing my hands on the prickly bed of green needles, I bring my other foot toward his face. He bats it away.

“Good. Where else?” He tugs and I roll my body, swinging a leg toward his stomach.

“Where else?”

He’s a drill sergeant pushing me toward my limits.

Sweaty, shaking, and mentally tapped, I’m pulled from beneath the branches with my heart in my throat.

“You did good.”

“Only because you talked me through it.” I slam a fist onto the ground, disgusted with my lackluster response.

“Practice makes perfect. The idea is to let muscle memory take over. You got back on the horse today. Take that win.”

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