The Push

You know how some mornings just feel wrong?

That feeling when the air is too quiet, like something is waiting to go wrong? Yeah. That.

The ground was still damp from last night’s rain, which meant the dirt in the yard had that heavy, wet smell that sticks to your boots. Wolves were already everywhere; stretching, arguing, shoving each other around like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I stayed near the edge like usual.

Head down.

Hands behind my back.

Trying not to exist.

It usually works.

Usually.

Until…

“Look who dragged herself out of bed.”

I didn’t even need to look up.

Derek.

My shoulders tensed before I could stop them. Great start, Amara.

I kept staring at the ground anyway.

Maybe if I ignored him—

“Hey, ghost.”

Okay. So ignoring him wasn’t going to work.

I looked up just enough to see his big boots.

“Morning,” I muttered.

Derek chuckled.

Not the nice kind of chuckle either. The kind that says this is going to be fun for me and awful for you.

“Morning?” he repeated. “You sound thrilled.”

A couple of betas behind him laughed.

I hate that sound.

Snickers that people do when they think you’re not worth the full effort.

I swallowed and didn’t say anything else.

Because if I started talking, Derek would keep going. And if he kept going, I’d probably say something stupid.

And if I said something stupid…

Well.

I’ve never exactly won those fights before.

“Training positions!”

The Alpha’s voice cut across the yard and everyone moved immediately.

Ryker Delaine doesn’t have to yell twice.

We lined up near the obstacle course. My stomach sank the second I saw the balance beams.

Fantastic.

Balance drills.

I’m terrible at balance drills.

Pairs started forming around me. Wolves stepping next to their usual partners, already joking, already shoving each other.

I stood there for a second too long.

Which is how I ended up hearing Derek say—

“Guess you’re stuck with me today.”

Of course I was.

I swear the universe has a sense of humor and I’m the punchline.

⸻

The rules were simple.

One wolf crosses the beam.

The other tries to knock them off using a padded stick.

Simple.

Unless the person with the stick hates you.

I climbed onto the beam slowly.

The wood wobbled under my boots and I held my arms out a little for balance.

From below, Derek twirled the stick lazily.

“You ready?” he asked.

I didn’t answer.

Mostly because if I opened my mouth I might tell him exactly where he could shove that stick.

“Begin.”

I took one careful step.

Then another.

The stick slammed into my ankle.

Hard.

My foot slipped instantly and I hit the dirt.

Laughter burst out somewhere behind Derek.

I pushed myself up, brushing dirt off my hands.

Okay.

Fine.

Maybe that was just—

I climbed back onto the beam.

Two steps.

The stick cracked against my knee.

Down again.

More laughter.

Someone actually said, “Wow, that was fast.”

My face burned.

I wiped dirt off my palms and climbed back up.

This time Derek didn’t even wait.

The stick smacked into my shoulder before I’d taken a step.

I hit the ground again.

The yard was definitely watching now.

You can feel it when people are watching you fail.

It’s like heat crawling up the back of your neck.

I sat in the dirt for a second longer than I should have.

My chest felt tight.

Okay.

Fine.

I stood up again.

Climbed back onto the beam.

Derek lifted the stick.

And suddenly something in my head just… snapped.

“Stop.”

The word came out before I could think about it.

Derek froze.

Slowly, he lowered the stick.

“Well,” he said. “The ghost talks.”

My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my throat.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” I said.

The yard went quiet.

Like really quiet.

Derek tilted his head.

“Oh?”

“You keep hitting my legs before I even move.”

He blinked once.

Then laughed.

“Maybe you’re just bad at this.”

A couple of betas snorted.

Normally that would’ve been the end of it.

Normally I would’ve shut up.

But my knee was throbbing and my hands were shaking and suddenly I was so tired of being the joke.

“You’re not even trying to hide it,” I said.

The words came out sharper than I meant them to.

Derek’s smile faded.

“You should be careful,” he said quietly.

He took a step closer to the beam.

“Omegas who forget their place usually regret it.”

I climbed down off the beam.

My heart was hammering.

Part of me was screaming stop talking, stop talking, stop talking.

But another part (the angry part that had been building for months) was louder.

“I know my place,” I said.

Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

My hands were clenched into fists now.

“And it’s not under you.”

The silence that followed was so thick it almost felt heavy.

Somewhere behind Derek, someone whispered, “Did she just—?”

Derek stared at me.

Really stared.

Then he stepped closer.

Too close.

“You’re getting brave,” he said.

Before I could respond, another voice cut in.

“Well that’s new.”

Everyone turned.

Kael Delaine was leaning against one of the training posts.

Arms crossed.

Watching.

My stomach dropped.

Great.

He saw that.

Derek scowled.

“You find something funny?” he asked.

Kael shrugged.

“I just didn’t know she had teeth.”

Heat rushed up my neck.

Fantastic.

Now the entire pack had front row seats to the moment I decided to grow a backbone.

Derek scoffed and turned back to me.

“Get back on the beam,” he said.

I hesitated.

Then I climbed up again.

The beam wobbled under my boots.

Derek swung the stick.

It missed.

Barely.

I blinked.

Then took a step forward.

Another.

Another.

My balance wobbled, but I didn’t fall.

When I jumped down on the other side, the yard was strangely quiet.

No laughter.

Just people looking.

Actually looking.

And for the first time since I joined this pack, Derek wasn’t smiling.

Which probably means I just made my life a whole lot worse.