Blooded Mate

Chapter 32 - Mating Ritual

Saturday dawn caught Ethan evading Zyga's jabs on their morning jog. He was starting to pick up on when the tracker's footfalls were getting closer. And after three runs in the forest, the trail had become familiar. On this one, Zyga was pushing the pace, but Ethan kept up.

By the time they got back to the cottage, Ethan was bent double, gasping for breath. Zyga, though sweating, looked like he could go for another round.

Instead of going inside, Zyga tapped him and walked him around to the back of the house. "Let's touch up on your hand-to-hand training. Your muscles are already forming, and you need to adjust to the style that works for you. We'll go through the formations. I want you to try and touch my back."

"Ok. But when do I start training as a wolf?" Ethan wiped his face on the sleeves of his sweatshirt, though his ear perked up for the answer.

He had not transformed since his first moon. He had not even attempted it. Brent's tortured growls from the night at camp still haunted him. And he wanted Zyga around in case he lost control of his wolf.

"How about we work on the form you can control first, before worrying about the one you can't," his mentor snapped.

Ethan scowled.

Zyga squared off against him with his hands held up. "Now, c'mon."

Ethan imitated his stance, then lunged to the right, feinting. Zyga did not bite. The tracker twisted his body into Ethan's attack and then backhanded the left side of his face.

"Ow!" Ethan rubbed his stinging ear.

Nonplussed, Zyga lectured. "You were too obvious. Don't let your eyes show where you are going"

Ethan reset, one foot in front of the other, arms up. A second attempt and another smack. He now had two stinging ears. For his third try, he attacked head-on, trying to use his superior bulk to topple the tracker's slight form. This time, he earned a trip to the cold, leafy floor and a smack upside the head.

"Don't be stupid!" Zyga admonished him without sympathy. "Charge your opponent only when you are certain of a win. And lower your center of gravity on a charge."

The rest of the morning went by in the same fashion until Zyga called a ceasefire. By then, Ethan's torso had a smattering of bruises similar to a child's finger painting. He had also become quite intimate with the leaves on the ground. Some still stuck to his clothes.

After showering, they settled on the sofa for lunch. With his mother and Mrs. Baine not around to nag them, the two spread their feast on the center table. Ethan opened the containers of Kung Pao Chicken, General Tso's chicken, rice, and dumplings while Zyga switched on the TV to a football game.

Ethan loved Chinese food right after fried chicken, of course. The whiff from the boxes had his mouth watering. But the first bite of the marinated chicken did not deliver the sensation his taste buds expected. He tried the other dish.

That also failed in its promise. It was neither sweet nor salty. No spices, nothing.

"These are horrible. They're bland," he complained.

"Are you sure?" Zyga tried the dishes. "They taste fine to me. Put some hot sauce on it."

Ethan grabbed one of the finger-sized red packets, ripped it with his teeth, and squeezed the condiment onto his food. Then he speared a nugget of chicken liberally coated with the sauce and popped it into his mouth.

Zyga studied him as he chewed on the meat for a while. Ethan only felt a mild tingling on his tongue from the sauce that used to burn his mouth.

Then he remembered the burger he had eaten on his day out with Brent and Eri. That had also been tasteless, but he had thought it was just a bad burger at the time.