1 Duck

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"Fuck," I hiss in pain, trying to get the air back in my lungs after being thrown back first to the ground for the umpteenth time today.

"Get up," Sara snarls, dark brown eyes lock on mine, daring me to pull something.

"No, I'm done!" I just lay on my back on the ground where she's flipped me, trying to catch my breath.

"I'm not asking," she growls kicking my foot. "Your enemies aren't going to give you a breather when you ask, they'll just rip out your pathetic little throat."

'God what crawled up her ass today?!' 'It's Sara, does she ever need an excuse!?'

"Jess," she warns.

"I can take a breather if they're dead," I snap, earning a scoff. "Look at your left ribs," I trail off with a triumphant smirk.

I hear her low growl as she no doubt sees the mark from the training dagger before sitting down with a huff beside me as she regroups.

"One lucky hit doesn't equal skill," she grumbles. "You may have gotten the fatal blow but you took one in the process." She doesn't need to remind me, my shoulder is throbbing.

Having caught my breath some I prop myself up and glare at her. As usual Sara looks completely in her element. Just a slight sheen of sweat lets you know she's been using any energy.

I on the other hand, am sweaty, dirty, battered and bruised as I lay here, panting on the ground. Even though Chris said I couldn't train Sara used her loopholes to give me basic defense. Mostly I think she just likes beating the crap out of me.

She gets up brushing the dust off of her long muscular legs. Everything about her screams don't mess with her. Her tall, lean muscular frame is quite visible in her leggings and sports bra. She constantly scans our surroundings, I think being off pack land leaves her uneasy.

With a final sigh she holds out a hand to help me up, I take it and wince. "How bad is it?" She asks raising a brow.

"Not bad, but I can feel the bruises already on my shoulder and hip. You know, it gets harder to hide these when you leave teeth marks on me right?" I complain.

"Guess you should practice ducking then," she replies nonchalantly. "I'm already holding back, if you want someone to pull punches stick to shadow."

"Jude fights completely different than you, and he really does hold back," I grumble. Sara just smirks in victory.

"I push you hard because you're capable of more than this," she says exasperated. "Training wise you react one way, but in the field another. It's annoying."

"Well sorry," I snap back. "I'm not like you guys. I haven't trained my whole life for this shit. I should have just been an omega," I grumble to myself.

"Ha! Have you met yourself?! You're way too stubborn and pissy to be an omega, not to mention you're a magnet for trouble," she scoffs.

"Look who's calling who pissy," I retort.

"I'm still not your cheerleader," she drawls.

"Yeah, yeah, head warrior, I know you're my number one fan," I reply with a smirk. She's been working on my nerves all day, fair is fair.

"Keep telling yourself that," she grumbles, but I see the corner of her mouth turn up.

To say we've had a rocky past is an understatement, we have literally come to blows. I've broken her nose and indirectly landed her in jail, and she kicks my ass a couple of times a week. That being said we have reached an understanding and I would trust my life to her in an instant.

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