TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-EIGHT
“Well, thanks for absolutely crushing our already fragile self-esteem,” Leo says, slinging an arm over my shoulders. “But we do have a date with food, and Ethan promised to fund our post-trauma feast.”
I shift on my feet, chewing the inside of my cheek before replying. “Actually… there’s still one more session.” I try to sound as regretful as possible. “But you guys can go ahead. I’ll meet you later.” That’s a lie—I have zero plans of catching up. This weird little cocoon we’ve all been floating in for the past half-day? It’s cracking.
“How many more torture sessions are we talking about here?” Leo squints at me like I just betrayed him. “I’m wasting away over here.”
“You should’ve eaten before we got here, like a normal human,” Selene teases, nudging him.
“I missed the memo about the pre-pain breakfast at the beta house,” he grumbles. “Didn’t know I’d be working out like I was auditioning for a gladiator show. Come on, how long, Little Bit? If you’re sticking it out, so are we. No way we’re leaving you here to keep making us look like we’re made of pudding.”
“The last one’s a fundamentals class,” I explain. “It’s really for beginners and those not in the warrior program. Way less intense than the others—but honestly, still super valuable. It runs for two hours. After that, we’re officially done.”
“Note to self—never accept one of your dares again. Ever. I swear I'm not gonna survive this,” Leo groans, dragging himself toward his water bottle like he’s about to collapse. The rest of the group, including the Luna and Selene, burst out laughing behind him.
“I didn’t dare anyone,” I mutter to no one in particular, eyebrows raised.
Training picks up smoothly after that. As we move through drills, adjusting stances and fixing sloppy technique, I notice a few of the higher-ranking warriors observing us again. There’s something new in their eyes—interest, maybe even optimism.
Before long, a few of them step in to join us, which almost never happens.
Their schedules rarely allow for casual drop-ins, especially not during beginner sessions. But seeing them here is doing something good—faces light up all around us.
Honestly, the boost in morale is well worth the sudden takeover.
This slower-paced session focuses on functional movements and light strength work—perfect for the younger kids just getting started, and the seasoned fighters trying to maintain their edge.
We emphasize proper form, balance, and patterns that build automatic reactions. The whole goal is to train the body to respond without overthinking—especially when things turn dangerous.
Even with the lighter workout, we still end up dragging ourselves out of the arena looking like we went ten rounds with the sun. I swipe the back of my hand across my forehead and glance at the group.
“Do we want to swing by home and clean up before grabbing food? Because I’m about one raincloud away from looking like roadkill.”
“Absolutely not, Little Bit,” Leo grunts, already marching toward the truck. “Get your sweaty self in the damn vehicle. I’m five minutes away from eating someone’s arm. Martha’s not gonna blink when she hands Ethan that check. I plan to eat the entire left side of the menu. You’ll have to forklift me out of that place.”
That sets off another round of laughter from everyone.
Leo, Ethan, and Milo pile into the truck bed like overgrown kids. Leo, with zero warning, yanks Selene into his lap while she yelps and throws half-hearted punches at his chest.
Jade grabs me from behind and effortlessly drops me into the middle seat up front like I’m made of air, just as Max hops in and starts the engine.
Strangely, even after all that running around and sweating buckets, the smell of the guys doesn’t faze me. It’s this wild blend of heat and earth and something distinctly male—but it’s not gross.
Not even close. Me on the other hand? I’m convinced I smell like something that crawled out of a locker and died.
Five minutes later, we’re pulling into the old-school diner at the edge of town. The guys clearly don’t need an introduction here—no host, no waiting—they stroll straight to a massive booth tucked into the corner like they own the place.
I get sandwiched between Max and Ethan, and that’s when it hits me. I look absolutely miniature.
Glancing between their broad shoulders and my own space-stealing size, I snort a laugh.
“What’s funny?” Max asks, glancing over with a raised brow.
“I just had a moment of awareness,” I say between giggles. “Sitting next to you guys makes me feel like I should be coloring on a placemat with crayons.” I tilt my head and pretend to measure his bicep with my eyes, then do the Leoe to Ethan. The whole table bursts into laughter.
Leo leans forward, smirking. “Should we ask if they’ve got a booster seat in the back? Pretty sure they keep a stash for little ones like you.”
I shake my head, cheeks warming. “No thanks. With my luck, I’d fall right out and land face-first in my milkshake.” The laughter grows louder, but it’s warm, not mocking. I just roll my eyes and smile along with them.