Chapter 238
Chapter 238
7-Finn
It’s been half a year since the brutal clash that claimed the lives of Claude, Ainy, and many of their loyal followers. The scars of that battle still linger, yet somehow, we’ve been granted permission to remain here—myself included-which feels utterly surreal.
Together, we’ve worked tirelessly to repair the damage we once caused, rebuilding the very neighborhood we set ablaze. In return, the community has offered us shelter in the new apartments constructed above the shops. Food is never scarce, and everyone is gradually settling into fresh roles, carving out their places within the pack’s hierarchy. Everyone, that is, except me.
I’ve begun training alongside the warriors, but the rigid schedules, the endless rules, and the strict protocols grate on me relentlessly. Since I was six years old, I’ve trained alone on my own terms. I rise when I please, practice however and whenever I want, and scavenge for enough food to keep us all fed. This whole “be here on time” nonsense is suffocating and, frankly, exhausting.
“Thanks for joining us, Rookie,” Greta calls out with a smirk. I choose to ignore her snide remark and slip toward the back of the group.
I’ve done my best to keep my distance from the fiery warrior, but I know it won’t last forever. Her constant “rookie” jabs are starting to get under my skin. I’ve paid my dues-probably more than her pampered, pack-protected self ever has. Her strict training regimen restricts what we’re allowed to do, but in real fights, there’s rarely a perfect scenario. Sometimes, training goes out the window, and it becomes a battle for survival. That’s something her inflexible nature fails to grasp. Still, many of the male warriors match my size, and sparring with them has sharpened my speed and strength.
Sweat drips down my face, adrenaline surging through my veins as we work through a submission technique. I’ve already bested four of the five warriors I’ve sparred with. Now, facing the sixth, I’m determined to correct the mistake I made last time. I grip the warrior’s arm firmly as he struggles, trying to resist the momentum pulling him toward the ground. He attempts a sweep at my leg but misses. I adjust my balance, and we tumble forward together into a roll. Using the momentum, I twist and pin him beneath me. He taps the knee I press lightly against his neck, signaling his submission. I stand and offer him a hand up, both of us grinning.
“That’s not how we were taught, but it works, Rookie,” Greta says, arms crossed, irritation clear in her stance as she stands behind me. Well, she always seems annoyed when she looks my way. She hasn’t forgiven me for what happened to the Luna, despite the Luna herself having pardoned me and the Alpha backing me up.
I turn fully to face her, mirroring her stance. “Most fights don’t present perfect opportunities to execute moves exactly as taught. Fighters have to adapt to what’s happening in the moment, ma’am.” Her eyes flash darkly at the title, and I know I’ve found the perfect way to needle her. The subtle flex of her jaw when I say it only encourages me more. Her uptight approach to training makes me want to provoke her at every chance. If she wants to hate me, I’ll at least give her a reason.
“For your information, Rookie,” she replies sharply, “that move, as taught, has saved countless lives. It’s also led to the capture of over a dozen prisoners p>
“I’m glad for your success, ma’am. But honestly, it makes you predictable and therefore easier to counter p>
I can feel the eyes of the gathered warriors on us, but something about Greta draws
me in, making it impossible to stop.
“Want to test that theory, Rookie?” she challenges.
“What’s the prize if I win?” I ask, smirking.
She doesn’t respond immediately, just fixes me with a steady gaze.
“I’ll learn your real name, Rookie. But if you lose, you’ll address me as Warrior Greta p>
“Understood, ma’am.” This time, she rolls her eyes and flexes her jaw again. This is going to be a lot of fun.