16. Mai

Before I could reply, Ryan was beside me, flashing his teeth at Ethan, with a green sheen flaring in his eyes. His Shifter magic only changed his eyes from blue to green when he was really pissed, and I wasn"t the only one who could feel the angry vibes streaming off Ryan, his body radiating a controlled sort of power. Ethan took a small step back. It was a tiny step, but it spoke volumes.

"Mind if I take the next round?" Ryan said.

Ivan looked him up and down. "You up for a spar?"

"Absolutely." Ryan stared at Ethan, cracking his knuckles. "I've been itching for some real action."

I walked to the side, giving them room. I knew it was important for Ryan to fight Ethan. Ethan had been pushing at Ryan's boundaries all afternoon, and Ryan needed to show him that we wouldn't tolerate it, but I was disappointed that I wouldn't get a chance to take Ethan down. I still had excess energy I needed to work off.

I watched as they squared off, my heart doing a weird flip. This was Ryan's moment to make an impression, and knowing him, he'd go big or go home.

I glanced around, looking for the Shaw brothers. Derek was talking in a low voice to a tall, slender woman from the Bridgetown Pack. Mason and Sam were walking toward me.

"You did good," Sam whispered.

I smiled at him. "Yeah, it'll be your butt I'm kicking next time."

Sam grinned back at me. "You're on!"

Derek said a final something to the woman and then came to stand by us. "I've been doing some digging. Ethan is not someone to mess with. His brother died a month ago in a trucking accident. He's grieving and angry and will be looking to pummel something or someone."

And Ryan had just offered himself up on a platter.

Great.

I heard some of the other werewolves calling for their friends to come and watch. The air grew thick with tension, like the calm before a storm. It was charged, electrical, setting my nerves on edge and heightening my senses. Even the distant calls of birds seemed to hush as if they, too, were waiting for the clash.

The moment Ivan nodded, Ethan barreled toward Ryan. Ryan waited until the last second, then danced to the left. Ethan grunted in annoyance and went for Ryan again. Ryan sidestepped and landed a swift kick to Ethan's leg as he went past. It was like watching a dance, a brutal ballet of force and finesse. Ethan was methodical; he had obviously been trained, but he had no initiative. It was like he was following a rule book on how to fight. In contrast, Ryan was a wildfire, bobbing and weaving, unpredictable and all-consuming.

Ethan seemed to embody the Bridgetown way—disciplined, hierarchical. Ryan was pure Three Rivers—raw and effective. Two worlds colliding in a tangle of fists and will.

Ryan was letting Ethan tire himself out. Ryan leaned back, avoiding a punch from Ethan, then countered with a swift jab that Ethan barely dodged.

I found myself holding my breath as they circled each other.

The sound of their boots scuffling against the dirt became a rhythmic soundtrack to their dance. Dust kicked up, swirling in the fading sunlight like miniature tornadoes. The sharp tang of sweat cut through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the training field.

"What? That all you got?" Ryan taunted.

Ethan lunged forward, aiming a kick at Ryan's midsection. It was a textbook move, clean and precise.

But Ryan was anything but textbook. He sidestepped, twisted, and slammed his fist into Ethan's side. Ryan then feinted a punch, drawing Ethan's guard up. It was a ruse. With a quick change of direction, Ryan snapped a low kick at Ethan's knee. Ethan jumped straight up, so Ryan's leg went under him, but frustration flickered across Ethan's face. He lunged forward suddenly, his fist flying toward Ryan's face at breakneck speed, the weight of all his muscles behind it. If it connected, Ryan would be out. Ryan ducked under the punch and rammed his shoulder into Ethan's stomach.

My heart was in my throat. Ryan had to walk the same line that I did; we had to show that we did not need their protection, that we could hold our own, but we couldn't really hurt them, either. We needed their respect; we needed them on our side, and we couldn't do that if we broke one of them in a training session.

Ethan started to kick and punch randomly. He was getting angry and losing control. Ryan darted left, leaped, and twisted in mid-air, driving his fist down hard on Ethan's jaw, snapping his head back. Ethan staggered but didn't fall. He regained his balance, shaking his head as if to clear it, and then, surprisingly, he chuckled.

I let out the breath I'd been holding and my shoulders relaxed. This was it; the unspoken questions had been answered. We could stand toe-to-toe with them, and they knew it.

Ryan turned to look at me, his eyes glowing with exhilaration. He gave me a small wink as if to say, "We did it."

"Well, you don't suck," Ethan said as Tucker came running up to Ryan and jumped on his back. "That was awesome!" Tucker yelled into Ryan's ear. "You have to teach me, Ryan. Will you?"

Ryan reached over his shoulder, grabbed Tucker, and pulled him around to his front, tickling the boy.

"Hey," Tucker giggled, "no fair, I wasn't ready!"

A group of the younger wolves started to make their way toward us. Their faces were open, their eyes less guarded than before.

One of them, a girl with a braid down her back, spoke up first. "You did alright there, you know."

I looked at her and smiled. "Thanks."

"I'm Due-Lah. Think you can show me that leg-sweeping move?"

"Sure. Let's do this," I said, striding back onto the field.

"Don't hold back, Due-Lah," Ivan called. "Let's see what you've really got."

Due-Lah came at me fast, aiming a kick at my ribs. I dodged, the breeze from her boot brushing my skin. She followed up with a flurry of punches aimed at my chest and face. Damn, she was quick.

I waited for an opening, then slammed my fist into her shoulder. Due-Lah staggered back.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Shya's angry voice broke my concentration. I turned to see her arguing with Mason. He growled something I couldn't hear. I spun back just as Due-Lah swept my legs out from under me. I hit the dirt with a painful thud.

I looked up into her worried face.

"Like that?" she asked, her voice uncertain.

"Uh-huh. That was good," I replied.

I jumped to my feet. Due-Lah grinned.

When she aimed another kick, I grabbed her leg and flipped her onto her back. Before she could react, I pinned her down, my forearm across her throat.

"Or you could do something like that," I said.

Her eyes widened. "That was super cool! Do it again!"

I laughed and helped her up.

"Due-Lah," Camille called from the edge of the veranda wrapping around the Alpha house. "You're on kitchen duties this week because of that stunt you pulled in training yesterday."

Due-Lah looked down, a meek, contrite expression on her face. "Of course, Camille. Apologies, Mai. I better go. I'll see you all later." She gave a small wave and ran back to the house.

Off to the side, I saw Shya arguing with Mason. She wasn't yelling at him anymore, which was an improvement.

Ivan walked toward us and clapped Ryan on the back—a silent but powerful gesture. "You've got skills," he said, locking eyes with both of us.

Some of the younger wolves, who had been so guarded earlier, were now chatting with Derek and Sam. The icy barriers had thawed, at least a little.

Ryan slipped his arm around my waist. "Not a bad start, huh?"

I smiled up at him. "Not bad at all."