Page 33 of Marked For A Bite
Zoe's eyes brightened with excitement that sent heat to his groin. Most people would be terrified at the prospect of Logan's brutal training methods, but his fierce little mate practically vibrated with eagerness.
"How extreme are we talking?" she asked, stepping closer until her scent flooded his senses with sweet arousal and determination.
"The kind that separates survivors from corpses," he growled, his voice rough with both desire and protective fury. "Tomorrow we're breaching a location that's been hidden for centuries. Whatever security protects that scroll will be designed to kill intruders."
She lifted her delicate chin with that stubborn defiance that never failed to make his control fray. "Then let's make sure I'm impossible to kill."
They headed inside his cabin, the familiar scent of mountain air and wood smoke wrapping around them like a protective embrace. Logan watched Zoe disappear into his bedroom to change, his mind cataloging every skill he needed to cram into a single night's training.
When she emerged wearing black leggings and a fitted white top that showcased every curve, he had to force himself to breathe normally. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and the mark on her neck gleamed tantalizingly in the lamplight.
"Are you wearing that outfit to train me?" She gave him a confused look as she gestured to his dark jeans and white henley.
He'd been so focused on mentally preparing her training session step-by-step that he didn't register that he needed to change too. He headed to his bedroom and quickly put on dark cargo pants and a black long-sleeved shirt that allowed for unrestricted movement. He then secured his collection of training knives housed in a tactical belt around his waist.
"Ready for this?" he asked as he stepped out of his bedroom, though the sight of her in form-fitting workout clothes made him want to carry her straight back into his bedroom.
"More than ready," she replied, her voice carrying a husky edge that made his wolf howl with possessive satisfaction.
They walked through the cool autumn night toward the detached building at the back of his property. Logan's training gym was his sanctuary—a place where he'd honed his deadly skills through five years of solitary perfection. The structure was reinforced concrete and steel, equipped with every piece of combat training equipment he'd accumulated over his enforcer career.
As he unlocked the heavy steel door and flicked on the industrial lighting, Zoe's sharp intake of breath made his chest swell with pride.
"This is incredible," she breathed, her eyes taking in the professional-grade equipment. Heavy bags, speed bags, weapons racks, and obstacle courses filled the space with military precision.
"Built it up over five years," Logan said, watching her explore his sacred space with the reverence it deserved. "It's my sanctuary. No one else has ever been in here before."
She turned to face him, those hazel eyes glowing with emotion. "I feel honored that you trust me enough to allow me into your sacred space."
The simple words hit him harder than any physical blow. Trust had been a foreign concept for so long that sharing this intimate part of himself felt more vulnerable than being naked. His wolf preened at her understanding, recognizing the significance of this moment.
"Let's start with hand-to-hand combat," Logan announced, moving to the center of the training mats. "Offensive and defensive techniques, plus dodging and evasion skills."
For the next hour, Logan pushed Zoe through a brutal series of combat drills. He showed her how to use her smaller frame as an advantage, how to target pressure points for maximum damage, and how to escape from various holds. Her natural athleticism and fierce determination made her absorb techniques that had taken him months to master.
"Again," he commanded after she successfully executed a complex defensive sequence. "But faster this time. Your life depends on speed and precision."
Sweat gleamed on her skin as she reset her stance, her breathing controlled despite the physical demands. Logan found himself increasingly aroused by her competence and fearlessaggression. She attacked each drill with the same passionate intensity she brought to everything else.
"Now knife work," Logan said, unsheathing one of his custom blades. The steel gleamed wickedly in the gym's harsh lighting. "Drawing from the holster needs to be instinctive. One fluid motion that ends with the blade positioned to kill."
He demonstrated the technique with practiced precision, his movements economical and deadly. "The knife becomes an extension of your arm. You don't think about it—you simply act."
Zoe mimicked his stance with startling accuracy, her natural grace adapting to the weapon's weight and balance. Within minutes, she was executing draws and strikes that looked impossibly advanced for a beginner.
"How are you learning this so fast?" Logan asked, his professional amazement warring with primal satisfaction. "These techniques took me months to perfect."
She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief and confidence. "Maybe I have a good teacher. Or maybe I'm just naturally gifted at being dangerous."
The playful challenge in her voice made Logan's control slip exponentially. His mate wasn't just beautiful and brave—she was becoming a lethal weapon under his guidance, and the combination was driving him toward the edge of sanity.
After thirty more minutes of knife wielding, Logan felt his control unraveling with each precise movement Zoe made with the training knife. The sight of her lithe form executing deadly techniques with natural grace sent heat coursing through his veins like molten steel. His wolf prowled restlessly under his skin, demanding he claim what rightfully belonged to him. The scent of Zoe's arousal mixed with adrenaline created an intoxicating combination that made his hands shake with the effort of maintaining professional distance.
"That's enough knife work for now," he said abruptly, his voice rougher than he expected. The way her fitted white top clung with dampness to her curves as she moved was driving him toward madness. If they stayed in this enclosed space much longer, he'd pin her against the concrete wall and show her exactly how desperately he wanted her.
"We should work on your shifting abilities," Logan announced, setting down his training blade with deliberate control. "Outside. Fresh air will help clear your head."
The cool autumn night hit his overheated skin like a blessing as they stepped from his training gym. Logan's arousal immediately began to dissipate, replaced by the familiar weight of concern that had haunted him since her first disastrous shift. The memory of her unconscious body burning with fever made his chest constrict.
