Chapter 7

Zahra's POV

“I thought teenagers needed loads of sleep? Or is that just my sons excuse for being lazy?”

Shit!! Gamma Austin’s Booming voice makes me jump, I duck, spin on my bench towards the noise and drop my textbook. My heart is fluttering in my chest as I stare wide eyed at him, it takes a couple of seconds for my brain to register that I’m not under attack. I look up to see Gamma Austin ‘s eyebrows are raised and he’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, Atomic structure fascinates me” I lie, still slightly out of breath after my mini panic attack.

“How long have you been here? It’s not even 5.30am yet?”

I check my watch, “only about 5 minutes” technically not a lie, he didn’t ask how long I’ve been out exercising for.

Gamma Austin gives me a slight smirk, as if he knows exactly what I’m hiding.

I ignore it and go and put my book away, and head over to the training area in the middle of the field to start stretching out

Our training facilities are amazing, like something straight out of a movie. Picture a field the size of 5 football fields—about 7 acres—divided by painted lines into three separate areas. At busier sessions, there’s enough space for three different training programs to run at the same time, which is good because Blood Moon has over 250 warriors. Every warrior who isn’t on duty has to attend morning training, which means there are always around 200 warriors plus about 20-50 normal pack members in attendance. Normally not may non warriors make it to morning training, especially in the week, because it’s so early. Evening sessions are more of a mix of abilities. Warriors have to attend two sessions a day when not on duty, and the rest of the pack has to attend at least 3 sessions per week. Generally, Monday and Wednesday evenings and Saturday and sunday morning sessions are the busiest.

There’s a 2.5-mile track that loops around the field, perfect for running laps. If you’re feeling particularly masochistic, there are also 5 and 10-mile trails that wind through the woods. And trust me, some of these wolves are masochists. Not me, though. I’m here for the obstacle course set back by the trees. It’s hands down my favourite part of training. Ropes, beams, climbing walls—it’s a playground for those who like to push themselves to the limit. Then there’s the massive gym complex, complete with an indoor sparring area, boxing rings, weights, and all the usual gym fare. Oh, and don’t forget the basement pool, sauna, and jacuzzi. We’re not savages; we like our luxuries after being pummelled in training. It’s all shiny and new, something Alpha Lucas is rightly proud of.

As more wolves gather for the early morning session, I, as usual, drift towards the back of the group, keeping my head down. I’m not exactly here to make friends; I’m here to train. With this many wolves around, it’s easy to blend in. Most of the wolves training this early are warriors, meaning they’re at least four years older than me. The other ranked members train at least once a day, but they always stick to the afternoon sessions. My brother and his friends are far too lazy to wake up for 5:30 a.m. training, and my two friends, Sienna and Abby, wouldn’t dream of joining me this early either.

I'm the only one desperate enough to show up to every session like it’s a lifeline. Because it is. I train whenever I can, squeezing in sessions like I’m running on borrowed time… because, well, I am. I’ve been clawing my way through the ranks, finally making it to the advanced group about a month ago. And just four weeks ago, Delta Greg invited me to join the elite sessions on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Yeah, I’m still buzzing about that. It means I’m one step closer to my ultimate goal; getting out of here. Away from my father, away from the constant eyes on me, and into a future I can finally control.

We all know where we stand, so as the wolves gather, we naturally split off into our groups, beginner, intermediate, and advanced, each presided over by a trainer. I head to the advanced section, keeping to myself as always, but with a little extra spring in my step. Because every session, every drill, is one step closer to freedom.

Gamma Austin is leading our group this morning.  I watch closely as he talks us through the attack combination were working on today. I’m buzzing, we’ve been mainly focussed on defence for weeks, and I can’t wait to finally be able to hit something

We pair off, and, predictably, I’m left on my own. Austin comes over to partner with me as usual. Honestly, I prefer it this way. I’m learning so much faster with him or the other trainers as my partner, and it saves me from any unnecessary chit-chat. It’s a win-win.

I circle around the sparring circle drawn on the grass, keeping my frame poised and alert just like I’ve been taught. My focus is locked on Austin, tuning out the other pairs practicing around us. He gives me a slight smile, his eyes crinkling as he takes in my stance. Stepping forward, I feint left, pivoting sharply on my heel, and drive my fist upward in a perfect arc. He barely has time to block. His eyes widen, a mix of surprise and pride flashing across his face, and then he grins.

“Excellent. You’re getting faster and more powerful. Just remember to reset your stance immediately afterward,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” I reply, my voice steady.

The others are still working through the first technique, so Austin stays with me, demonstrating a couple more advanced moves. I mimic his steps and movements, fine-tuning each one under his watchful eye. Once he’s satisfied, he moves on to help the rest of the class, leaving me to practice on my own.

The session ramps up, each move more challenging than the last. We transition into grappling techniques, and I feel the burn in my muscles as I execute a shoulder throw, sending Gamma Austin to the ground with a satisfying thud. He’s quick to recover, of course, and we flow straight into counters and reversals. I duck under his outstretched arm, twisting to his side and locking his arm behind his back in a textbook hammerlock.

“Good,” he says with a nod, signalling for me to release.

Sweat drips down my face, but I keep my movements sharp and my mind clear. As the session comes to an end, Gamma Austin claps me on the shoulder, a wide smile on his face. “Great job. Your brother can’t take me down yet, and it’s not very often someone can. You’re a 14-year-old, wolf-less she-wolf, and you just did it. Keep up the good work.”

Pride surges through me, and I can feel a blush creeping across my face. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot,” I say, my voice full of sincerity. Praise like this from the Gamma isn’t handed out lightly. It’s a high compliment, and I’ll treasure it.