Halfway around the track, Jericho pops up again.
There's never been a person I've love-hated as much as him, and I have a fucked up family that inspires all kinds of hate to go with the love a family shares.
"What," I grunt as I lunge forward, stretching my legs and dipping down with my wildly weak arms. They're beyond trembling. They're like jello, and I can barely raise the dumbbells from my sides.
But I don't stop.
"Straighten your back," Jericho growls, eyeing my pose critically. "Keep your core tight."
I adjust my stance, trying to maintain balance as my leg muscles quiver. Jericho grunts, apparently finding my form acceptable, before shoving sothing at .
"Here. Two pound dumbbells. Never had to start soone so low before."
I glance down at the weights, surprised to see they're a cute, bright pink color. They look pristine, like they've never been touched.
"Did you have soone buy these for ?" The question slips out before I can stop myself.
Jericho's eyes narrow. "None of your business," he barks, turning on his heel and storming off towards Lisa, who's struggling through her own set of lunges.
I can't help but giggle—in my head, because I have no breath to spare—as I continue the exercise, the small weights clutched in my hands. Despite Jericho's gruff deanor, the fact that he went out of his way to get these for sends a unexpected wave of warmth through my chest.
It's a small gesture, but it speaks volus. Beneath his tough exterior, maybe Jericho isn't quite as cold as he seems.
"Lift those arms higher, Grey! You think this is a ga?" Jericho's voice cuts through my montary warmth like a knife.
I grit my teeth, forcing my arms up despite the burn radiating through my muscles. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes. The weights feel like boulders dragging down.
Nope, I take it back. Jericho is a heartless bastard after all. A sadistic, rciless drill sergeant determined to break .
I glare at him through the strands of hair plastered to my forehead. He ets my gaze, unflinching, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He's enjoying this, the jerk.
"Face forward! Did I say you could stop? Keep going!" He barks, folding his arms across his chest.
I resist the urge to throw one of these pretty pink dumbbells at his head. Barely. Instead, I force myself to continue, each lift sending fresh shockwaves of agony through my body.
My arms are on fire, trembling uncontrollably. I'm pretty sure this is what dying feels like. But I won't give Jericho the satisfaction of seeing quit. I'll finish this set if it kills .
"Co on, Ava! You got this!" Lisa calls out from sowhere to my left, her voice strained but encouraging.
Of course, Jericho yells at her, too. Poor Lisa. She's struggling as much as I am.
Still, I cling to her words like a lifeline, drawing strength from her support. We're in this together, suffering under Jericho's tyrannical rule. United in our misery.
Just a few more reps. I can do this. I have to do this. For myself, for Lisa, and maybe just a little bit to spite Jericho.
I summon every ounce of determination I possess, pushing through the pain, the exhaustion, the overwhelming desire to collapse on the ground and never move again.
One lunge. Two. Three. Each lift is a battle, a war waged against my own limitations. But I keep going, fueled by sheer stubbornness and the refusal to let Jericho break .
Finally, rcifully, I make it around the track. I have no idea how long it's been. I'm basically dead now.
Dropping the weights to the ground, I lose all control over my shaking arms. I'm panting, my heart racing, my entire body drenched in sweat.
Do all the Westwood wolves go through this level of hell?
"Not even close," Jericho scoffs, answering my unintentionally spoken question. "Not a single Westwood wolf is born as weak as you are right now."
If I had the energy, I'd protest his cruel words.
But I don't have any.
Like I said, I'm basically dead now.
Lisa, still struggling through her own exercises, pipes up. It's amazing how she still has the energy to talk after everything. "Hey, this isn't fair! You're putting through shifter-level training, and I'm human!"
I an, I'm basically human too…
Jericho speaks under his breath, just loud enough for us to hear. "Please. These are conditions for a human baby, and yet all you two do is squawk about it."
"Not squawking," I point out weakly, having at so point falling to the ground to stare at the sky and wonder when I'll have bodily function again.
"Babies can't even walk until they're toddlers," Lisa mutters.
"And that sass right there is exactly why you can't progress, Miss Prissy."
I can't help it—a snicker escapes my lips. Jericho's no-nonsense attitude and Lisa's fiery retorts are like watching an unstoppable force et an immovable object.
Lisa grumbles, her voice ant only for my hearing. "I've never been treated this way in my entire life."
"Well, maybe you'd be a better person for it if you had been," Jericho snaps back, his tone leaving no room for argunt. Wolf ears. Lisa's still not used to those.
I close my eyes, letting Lisa's grumbling fade into the background as I focus on the sensation of the cool breeze caressing my sweat-drenched skin. It's a small respite from the grueling workout Jericho just put us through, and I'll take any mont of peace I can get.
But just as I start to relax, sothing brushes against my mind—a fleeting sensation, like a whisper just out of reach. My eyes snap open, my heart racing with a sudden surge of hope and longing.
Selene? I call out ntally, desperately reaching for that familiar presence. Selene, is that you?
Silence.
I wait, my breath caught in my throat, straining to feel even the slightest hint of a response. But there's nothing. Just the emptiness that's been haunting since Selene disappeared.
Disappointnt crashes over , a heavy weight settling in my chest. I should be used to this by now—but it cuts just as deep every ti I think of her.
I close my eyes again, trying to push down the lump in my throat. I miss her so much. The constant ache of her absence is like a physical pain, a hollow space inside that nothing else can fill.
I take a shuddering breath, letting it go in a soft exhale.
Focus on what I can deal with right now.
Don't wallow.
Push forward.
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