Chapter 10

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Brin grins at me maliciously as she takes her place across from me on the fighting mat. Nearly all the wolves from the pack are waiting to begin to watch us fight, gathered around like moths to a lamp. Paul is explaining the rules, saying he wants it to be a fair fight, and Brin snorts. It seems as the the rules aren't taken seriously here.

Paul steps back. "On the count of three, you may begin."

"One." Brin crouches down, eyes burning in between black and her normal tawny color.

"Two." I get on the balls of my feet, hands in fists, one arm near my face and the other near my stomach in the traditional defense stance.

"Three!" Time seems to slow down, just like it does every time I train.

Brin is moving towards me, but I easily sidestep her tackle, watching as she plows into the mat. Instead of going at her immediately, I wait for her to get back on her feet, approaching me with a walk now. Once she gets about five feet away, she launches herself into the air again. I run under her easily, turning as soon as I am slightly away from her.

A drop of sweat rolls down my forehead and I rip my jacket off, throwing it away from the mat. Brin charges me again, and I sidestep again. Everyone is chuckling, and I realize with a burst of anger that she is playing with me, like a cat would a mouse.

The next time she charges, I sidestep, but throw out my arm, catching her in the gut. As soon as I make contact, I crouch and push under her knees forcefully, flipping her. She lands gracefully like she was doing push ups, jumping up and standing before me.

"Not bad," she admits, then gives me her usual grin, "for a newbie."

She moves forward again, much quicker than before, throwing punches everywhere. They aren't aimed at me, instead they either go right by my face, or stop right before my gut. Then she hooks her left arm around, aiming for my jaw, and I snap my right hand, then grab her right with my left, flipping her again, keeping my hold until I feel her back hit the mat, knocking the breath out of her.

I step away, waiting for her to get up, and see how flushed her face is. Her eyes are staying black, and its her wolf that is up front now.

She charges me, and I sidestep again, kicking my foot out and tripping her. She does a front flip, back on her feet in seconds. We circle each other for a few seconds, and I realize just how tired I am. Not injured or bruised, just drained.

All I need is to get one good solid punch to her temple and knock her out for a bit. I don't want any blood spilled, I just want to prove my worth.

She jumps towards me while I am lost in thought, grabbing me and putting me in a headlock. I wheeze, black spots dancing in my vision, then lean my head forward, snapping it back harshly. She squeals and lets go, and I turn to see her cupping her nose, blood dripping between her fingers.

So much for not spilling any blood.

She charges me again, and I steady myself, waiting until she is nearly on me to extend my fist, hitting her square in the breadbox. All of the air is pulled from her, and she falls over, gasping like a fish out of water.

I kneel over her, debating whether or not to hit her in the jaw or the temple. I'd break her jaw, but that would just anger her and it would be healed by tomorrow. I shrug, then hit her firmly in the temple, watching as her eyes roll back in her head.

I stand, looking over at Paul, who is smiling proudly. "I'm glad you ended that when you did."

I give him a questioning look. "Everyone was laughing because you made her look like she's never fought before. She was getting really angry, and that little hit to the gut was the last straw. She was about to wolf out on you and nobody would want to see what would happen."

I smile, grabbing my jacket and walking with Paul as the pack doctor examines Brin.

"You did good. I was sort of bluffing earlier; Brin's a good fighter. She was holding back today, and that's what got her beat."

I shrug. "I've lost plenty of times. It's no big deal. But I, too, was holding back. If it comes to hand to hand combat with a wolf, I'm not so nice."

Paul swallows, staying silent. We walk together for a bit, then he breaks it, sounding breathless. "Pack house. Now. Stand still, don't move a muscle. Colin will get you, but until he does.. Do. Not. Move."

He sprints off, running a ways before shifting, his huge sandy colored wolf loping across the field where a group of other wolves are. Several others shift too, following Paul closely.

Colin scoops me off my feet, running towards the packhouse. Fear and anger coils in my stomach. "What's going on?" I whisper.

"Rogues. If they knew Paul had a mate, especially a human one, they would immediately target you." I swallow, thinking of the outcome.

Unlike most wolves, who actually had a bit of human in them, rogues are insane wolves, where the wolf has overpowered the human side of their soul, nearly killing or completely killing their conscience. They are pure evil and do not care who or what they are ripping to shreds, just that they must.

Colin gets me to the packhouse in record time, dragging me downstairs, opening a secret door beneath the stairs that required a secret code from a keypad behind a hidden panel. Colin enters the saferoom with me, sitting on a small chair, stayiong stock still.

The room smelled musty, but it was warm and the chair I was in was really comfortable. I lean back, watching as Colin most likely mind links with the rest of the wolves, gathering intel on the fight. The warmth radiating off of Colin mixed with the already warm house settles over me like a blanket and I feel my eyelids get heavy, drifting off to sleep.

//omg i suck so much im so sorry guys i made you wait so long for such a boring FILLER of all things XD its not anything important i dont think LOL but ya never know....i actually dont know what i plan on doing....oh wait yes i do.......*awkward silence* *coughs* okay bye -a\\

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