“Come on, Lyta,” Xander complained. “You haven’t even had the chance to kick his ass once. Please?” He gave her the puppy dog eyes that he thought made him look cute.
She rolled her eyes, taking another bite. “Fine,” she muttered.
Xander cheered loudly, getting up to run around the table giving high-fives to everyone. He dropped a quick kiss on her head, making her roll her eyes before he settled down to eat heartily once more.
She looked over at where Cole was and found him staring intently at her. Her heart thundered and she coughed to cover the sound, abandoning her meal in a hurry. If any of the other wolves realized what they were to each other, there would be a never-ending flood of well-meaning matchmaking.
“I’ll meet you in the gym,” she called over her shoulder, heading down there on her own.
It was her sanctuary. She ordered all the equipment, the furniture, and the décor. She designed it to suit the training needs of the pack and kept everything well-maintained.
There was a secondary training area in the forest, which was, actually, just a clearing that she filled with sand to cushion falls, where they simulated fights and hunts with younger wolves. She had already begun training little Niles and it was one of the joys of her week.
Settling on the mat, she folded her legs and started her breathing exercises. Closing her eyes, she pushed all thoughts out of her mind, focusing on the present. She did daily morning meditation with Nicholas; something that she looked forward to; and she practiced it before all of her training sessions.
She never wanted to accidentally hurt anyone. She held back for everyone, except Damen, and the discipline that it took required patience and focus. She normally asked her sparring partner to join her but she was worried that she wouldn’t be able to focus if Cole was there with her. He was the one making her lose her cool in the first place.
Gods, his body, though.
Just thinking about his shoulders, arms, and thighs straining the confines of his suit was enough to drive her up a wall.
And his scent.
She knew, logically, that his pheromones suited her specifically as his mate, but did he honestly have to smell so damn good? She remembered when they were younger, she loved the smell of his sweat more than anything else in the world. Her eyes snapped open as every ounce of well-honed focus left her body at the memory.
Well, fuck.
How the hell was she going to be able to do anything if he was near her? Anxiety skittered across her spine.
Maybe I should cancel. Say I’m not feeling well.
Even as she thought it, she pushed it aside. She was not the Werewolf who let fear take over. She fought it, defeating it every single time. That was how she became as strong as she was and that was how she stayed strong.
Warriors didn’t let hurdles get in their way. They found a way around them or they knocked them the fuck down. Right now, Cole represented a hurdle to her and she would overcome him.
Even as her eyes narrowed with determination, she was bombarded by his scent. Her brow dipped as she felt arms coming around behind her, legs bracketing her own. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she snarled, trying to pull away from him.
He had taken off his jacket, vest, and tie, wearing only his shirt and pants now. His arms tightened, holding her close as he buried his nose against her neck. She held the whimper of pleasure the movement elicited inside, but just barely.
“Gods, I’ve missed you,” he purred, running his nose up and down her neck. “Your scent, Lyta. I can’t even describe how it makes me feel.”
She didn’t bother responding, jerking her elbow backward into his side. The grunt told her that she made a direct hit, but his arms didn’t loosen at all. She flung her body backward, pinning him to the floor, but found herself startled by how hard he was. His body felt like it was made of steel. He braced them both, wrapping his legs around her so he didn’t have to let go.
It was a weak hold, but it also placed his arm directly over her breasts. He groaned, leaning down to bury his face in her hair.
“Will you stop fucking sniffing me?” she screamed, bridging her hips, dislodging him and spinning, catching his legs to flip him.
He braced himself with his hands on the mat, using his muscular thighs to keep himself in place. Their eyes clashed and she saw the little smirk on his face.
Oh, it’s fucking on.
Releasing him, she scrambled up his body, straddling him. His jaw dropped and his pupils dilated. He grabbed her hips, settling her comfortably over his cock, which she now realized was rock hard. It distracted her for a moment, but only just.
She smiled down at him and he was grinning stupidly back when she pulled a fist back and punched him directly in the solar plexus. He wheezed, releasing her. She used his weakened state to turn him over, yanking his arm behind his back in her favorite hold.
“Oh, poor baby,” she crooned in his ear as he tried to catch his breath, groaning. “Maybe don’t touch me again unless you’re ready to face the consequences.” She pulled his arm harder, enjoying his moan of pain. “Asshole.”
She stood, walking away from him, although sauntering would be a better word. After all these years, she was finally proving that she was over him.