Chapter 230 WOLF COMPANION
Edeline
His teachings are sharp, like the pain, but I still feel like I’m falling short. Almost there, but not quite. There is still such a long road ahead of me before I can call myself a warrior.
Alexa was quite the fighter, even though she was still new to this. For about fifteen minutes, we went back and forth. At first, we were just circling each other, sizing each other up. I sat back, patiently waiting for her to make the first move. And she did—throwing a punch my way. I dodged it, countering with a jab aimed at her stomach. But before I knew it, she had me pinned to the ground.
It turned into a full-on power struggle. She was on top, but I managed to toss her over my head. Quickly, I straddled her and started landing a series of punches to her face. She was fast, though, picking up speed and turning the tables. We were back on our feet, and I could feel my wolf starting to emerge, pushing me to fight harder. Shoving her away was no easy feat, but I managed it.
They rely heavily on their wolf companions, but they also need the ability to control them when the time comes.
Alexa came out on top, but not without some damage—a busted lip, bruised ribs, and a black eye. I felt a surge of pride. She had given it her all, just like me.
With a satisfied grin, I sank deeper into the water of my bath, letting myself relax. My head rested against the back of the tub. The metallic taste of blood lingered in my mouth, and my stomach growled with hunger. I hadn't eaten all day, and it was starting to gnaw at me. My wolf was hungry, too, no matter if I was in human form or not.
A knock on the bathroom door startled me, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Hey, Conor?” I called, catching a hint of his scent drifting through the room.
“Hey, when you are free, swing by my room. I have something for you,” his deep voice came from behind the door.
“Sure, I will be finished in about twenty minutes!” I replied.
As the door to my bedroom clicked shut, I let out a sigh of relief. I relaxed back into the water, soaking my hair and lathering it with my favorite honeysuckle shampoo. People often said I smelled like honeysuckle, so I used it along with vanilla-scented products for a touch of extra sweetness.
After cleaning up and rinsing away the dirt and blood, I managed to climb out of the tub. I pulled the stopper from the drain, watching as the grimy water spiraled away.
Every little movement sent sharp pains through me. Ouch! Raising my arms to dry myself with a fluffy towel brought a fresh wave of discomfort. I gave up on drying my legs and just blotted the moisture from my hair, realizing bending over was too painful.
...
Back in the day, I used to rock a laid-back look: black soffee shorts and a white tank top. My hair was up in a messy bun, still damp from the shower. I walked down the hall and gave a light knock on Conor’s door.
“Hey, come on in,” his voice greeted me, sounding even deeper than before.
I pushed the door open and winced slightly as I stepped into his room. The only light came from the lamps, casting a soft glow. Conor was busy with some paperwork. Though he had a separate office for pack business, he often preferred to work in his room when he needed some peace and quiet.
Conor looked up from his mahogany desk, which stood prominently on the other side of the room. His dark eyes scanned me as I closed the door behind me. He stood up and took in the sight of the bruises and cuts on my face and body.
“You feeling alright?” His gaze was intense, searching for any hint of pretense.
I closed my eyes and let out a weary sigh. “I think I might have broken a rib.”
Conor’s brow furrowed. He approached me with a gentle but firm demeanor, his hand lifting my jaw to examine my battle scars. He looked at my stomach and gestured for me to lift my shirt. “Sure, show it to me.”
“I’ll be okay…” I started to protest, but his serious expression made it clear he wasn’t asking.
Reluctantly, I sighed and rolled up my shirt, tucking it under my bra band. Conor’s eyes moved over the collection of bruises scattered across my ribs and stomach. One set of ribs looked particularly dark and swollen. His expression grew more serious.
He took my hand, guiding me to follow him as he settled on the edge of his bed, right by the nightstand where the lighting was just right. “Hey, just stay put for a sec.” His hands directed me to stand in front of him. It was odd, really, that when he sat down, we were at eye level. Just a note on his height.
I stood there, watching him as he pursed his lips and ran his fingertips gently along my sides, focusing on the area that hurt the most.
“Ouch!” I winced, cursing under my breath as he pressed on my ribs. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I could see his expression growing darker. I wasn’t sure if I had upset him, but his wolf seemed to be watching me closely. Then, just as quickly, he looked away.
“It’s fractured, not completely broken. Just stay still,” he said, his jaw clenching as he leaned over. With one hand still on my waist, he rummaged through the nightstand drawer and pulled out a taping kit.
I looked at him, puzzled. “Hey, are you upset with me or something?”
He shook his head, a clear denial. Our eyes locked briefly, and he added, “Guess it’s on me for letting you go out there today. My bad. And of course, she had to be my weakest warrior,” he chuckled sarcastically, shaking his head again.