Chapter 43 Backing Down? Never
Vanessa
The next day after breakfast, I stroll to my favorite place - the gardens. I don't miss the subtle glances, the disapproving looks of some of the pack members. Some even openly stare and point fingers, I clench my fingers until they're knuckle white, but I ignore them all.
I don't care much as long as no one tries to cross my path. But unfortunately, someone will definitely do the opposite of what you want.
A girl bumps into me. I let out a heavy sigh and tilt my face upwards with my hands on my waist.
It is really starting to get old now.
I hear a little squeak and snap my face downwards to see a young girl no more than nineteen maybe. Her blue eyes stare up at me, and I'm no wolf, but I can almost literally smell the fear off of her.
I step back to give her room. "Watch where you're going, kid."
"I'm s-sorry," she stammers.
"It's fine. You can go."
She nods vigorously and scuttles off. I wonder what all that's about. Shrugging, I decide to take a detour and head towards my second favorite place.
The training grounds are empty save for a lone figure. His shirt is discarded and he's at the centre ring, sweat slicking down his broad, bare back. He's not sparring with anyone, just moving slowly, deliberately like he's listening to something beneath his muscles.
I almost turn away, since I came here expecting no one, but something grounds me feet here. So instead, I surge forward. It won't be so bad if I can actually sparr with someone just once.
Tightening the wraps on my hands, I approach him. "Nice moves," I greet.
He tilts his head sideways, there's no flicker of surprise at seeing me and I imagine he must've heard me, thanks to his supernatural hearing.
His hazel eyes study me for a moment and I start to wonder if he speaks, but then, "Thank you, your Highness."
Oh. He knows who I am then?
But I don't get discouraged and give him a hesitant smile. "Nope. In here, I'm just Vanessa."
"Noted," he replies.
I guess he's not the talkative type then.
Still, I ask, "Do you mind having a sparring partner for today? I need to stretch my stiff muscles after such a long time, you see, and I assume you won't mind. Are you in?"
I stretch out my hands to shake. A glint of amusement lits up his eyes for a moment, but he shakes me, once.
The moment I have a firm grip on his hand, I bend my knees a little for balance and throw him over my shoulders. He lands on his back. Hard. The air whooshes out of him in a single breath, and he groans.
I squat and make a clicking sound with my tongue. "Sorry buddy, real war doesn't wait for you to be ready before it crushes you." His hazel eyes darken with silent anger, but I try not to laugh.
Standing to my feet, I stretch my hand out once more. "Need help?"
He ignores me and springs back up on his own. Fair enough.
We get into position. I notice the way he studies me; my stance, my hands and the way the my weight rests on the balls of my feet.
"Don't go easy," I warn.
"I wouldn't dare, princess." The nickname doesn't surprise me, more like it's tone. It almost sounds mocking, but I don't have time to analyze because he moves first.
There's no countdown, no theatrics.
He's fast, precise. He throws a test strike which is meant to gauge reflex rather than land damage.
But instead of dodging, I step further into the ring and catch his fist, then I twist his arm behind his back, landing a sharp punch to his ribs. He barely has time to block the attack, the effect of the blow jolting through us both.
"Oof!" I exclaim with a grin.
This time, I lunge first.
The second exchange is faster. Whenever I strike, he cuts off all angles, forcing me backwards and trying to see when I'll fold.
I don't. He doesn't know who he's dealing with yet.
I duck under a wide swing and throw my legs into his thigh, he winces at the impact which gives me enough time to shove him backwards.
Sand sprays everywhere, but we pay it no mind and continue circling each other.
"C'mon big guy, you don't expect a little human to overpower you. Do you?" I taunt.
"I don't fall for rage baits, princess," he gripes.
He feels confident in his size as he lunges for me again, I let him reach for me, caging me in his strong hold, but at the last second, I twist out of his grip and drive my heel into the back of his knees. He barely has time to catch himself before he hits the ground. He drops painfully on one knee and swears under his breath.
He pants, already getting out of breath, but I feel lighter than ever.
"You're holding back. Why?" he breathes.
"I could ask the same of you, big guy," I grin. "Come on, let's make this worthwhile."
He raises to his feet again and we lunge at each other at the same time.
One strike lands heavily on my ribs, while the other grazes my jaws. Pain erupts, enough to knock the air out of my lungs, but I smile through it all.
I continue to dodge all his attempts to land another and the perfect opening I was patiently waiting for, arrives.
In quick successions, I deliver a palm strike to his sternum, and a sharp kick to his shin. He doubles over and pauses. Big mistake.
I seize his hand and twist it behind his back, slamming his face into the sand. With one knee against his neck, while my forearm presses against his throat. Nothing too serious.
Finally he gives up, tapping the ground twice.
I move from over his body and help him up. He's still breathing hard by the time he sits down.
He shifts and winces slightly, and a new spark lights in his eyes. Respect.
"You fight well...like someone who's been underestimated their whole life," he mumbles.
I chuckle lightly. "Oh, you have no idea. I mean, I just beat your ass," I brag.
He scoffs and the side of his lips tilt up.
"Looks, like we have company now."
I turn my head to see what he's talking about. Some pack members walk by with wide eyes, most train their gazes on me with mixed looks of fear and admiration. Some pretend not to stare.
Better.
Shrugging, I avert my eyes from them and ask the man before me. "What's your name?"
"Dorian," he mumbles. "Dorian Grey."
I grin. "It's a pleasure to have sparred with you, Dorian."
"Anytime, princess."
I turn and walk away, with my body suddenly feeling fatigued, but with my head held
high. Feet shuffle backwards, when I approach and the discriminating looks turn into admiration. I flip my hair over my shoulders.
Clock. It.