Training with Sam was no walk in the park. She was like a drill Sergent from hell. She made me wake up every morning at five in the am. We would then go for a run in the woods for two hours and come back for breakfast. Sam watched my diet too. She said I was supposed to take high energy food to keep my strength up for the training. After breakfast, we would head out to the backyard where combat training usually took place. Sam insisted that I had to train in hand to hand combat again, claiming that she needed to see how good I was. As it turned out, I was pretty good. I managed to beat her three out of ten times which she admitted was impressive for a street trained fighter. I agreed with her half-heartedly because deep down I knew the only reason I beat her those three times was because of my alpha strength and speed. I think she knew that too but couldn't bring herself to say it. I guess she didn't want to hurt my feelings. Anyway, Sam gave me a three out of ten on my scorecard. Yeah, she kept scores 'to gauge my progress.' that's what she told me when I asked her if the scores were necessary.
After establishing my place in the combat pyramid, the real training began. Sam must have taken me through all kinds of martial arts. Both defensive and offensive. I was good at some and really bad at others but I scored an average in most. After that came weapons training. Sam told me that it was not a popular method of combat to wolves since they were pretty deadly in hand to hand combat due to their speed, strength, and animal instincts. She said weapons were only necessary if the enemy had weapons. She also added that my father, the king, made it mandatory for pack warriors to train in weapons too.
We started with knives which apparently were her weapons of choice. I was clumsy with the knife. But on the plus side, I am a quick learner so I got pretty good in no time. After the knives came to the swords. She favored the Japanese katana. Being a werewolf meant that we could quickly heal from our training wounds. With that in mind, Sam didn't hold back. She was sword fighting for real. I got a few nasty cuts which made me better my defense techniques and give some cuts of my own.
The guns were much easier. You just had to aim and fire. Sam had a Glock nineteen sidearm. It was a perfect fit for her hands. She gave me a Glock seventeen. It was big for her but perfect for me. They both used a 9mm parabellum. I started out as a lousy shot but became better with time. We lived in an isolated area so there were no worries about the gunshots attracting undue attention. We started out with bottles as targets. In the beginning, most of my bullets went wide. Sam could empty a whole magazine without missing her targets even once. As my aim improved, we switched to paper targets. You know those with a picture of a man and accurate grid lines. I got pretty good with a handgun. I was not exactly a crack shot but my aim was decent. After weeks of training in human form, Sam finally agreed that I was good enough to handle myself in battle. She also insisted that I should keep training both the keep in shape and to help me not lose my edge.
The wolf combat training started the day after we completed the human combat training. Sam didn't want us taking breaks. The first thing we did was shift into our wolf forms. She made me shift like twenty times in a row. At first, I didn't see the point of it all but as I went on, I realized that the more I shifted, the faster the process was. The shifting also became completely painless. Sam told me that it should come easy (second nature) like breathing or eating. And it did. After we got my shifting in line, we went to work on communication. This was through telepathy or mind linking as she called it. Sam told me that I would have to link with the entire pack so that we could coordinate our moves. We worked the mind link as we had before. Sam said that to link with the pack, I had to make multiple connections to each member of the pack. Sam also told me that if someone had not been part of the pack previously, they had to be inducted by the alpha to the pack in some ceremony. She told me that I didn't have to worry about that since I was related to the king by blood.
Fighting in wolf form was a whole different ball game. But like in human combat, there were both offense and defense moves. Most importantly Sam told me that I had to guard my neck because wolves went for the jugular when they wanted to make a kill. Because I was an alpha and royalty by blood, Sam said that I could take up to eight normal wolves at once. She told me the standing record was thirteen wolves in seventy-two seconds by my grandfather. Some rogues had attacked the pack because they thought he was too old to beat them but after he got those thirteen, the others fled. In wolf combat, I was supposed to use my size and power to intimidate my opponent. My sharp teeth and claws came when the opponent ignored the intimidation drill and pushed for the fight. The techniques were easy to learn because mostly I let my instinct take control. Being in wolf form was also very refreshing.
After a long four weeks, Sam finally certified me as battle-ready. She claimed that all that was left was leadership lessons at the feet of my dad, the king himself. I felt confident too. Like I could do anything. Sam warned me not to be too cocky and to never underestimate an enemy.
After my training was done, we started making plans to move from my current home to my true home where my true parent lived. It turned out that my real home was in Canada. My mom had brought me to America for safety. We were currently in a small town in North Dakota. My parents lived in Quebec and mainly spoke French which apparently, was the official language there. They spoke English too though. I had French classes in school so the language was not going to be a problem. We thought we could carry only the necessary things like a change of clothes, food water, etc. My parents would send transport. We were going to travel by road. I was really looking forward to this road trip.
Sam made a phone call to the person who was supposed to arrange for our transport. She was told that the cars would arrive in two days. We spent the two days packing up the stuff that we were going to take with us and talking about how life back home was going to be. On the third day at around eight am, two black SUVs showed up on our driveway. Sam recognized the two drivers as they got out of the cars. They were part of the elite guards that protected the royal family. We went outside to meet them. When we got to where they were Sam greeted them with an air of familiarity that you see between army officers in the same unit. My foster parents said hi to but when it came to me they did it a little differently. For starters, they avoided looking me in the eye. I started at them puzzled. *'They can feel your power and don't want to appear as though they are challenging you. '* Sam linked. *' Thanks Sam. '* I linked her back.
"It's OK guy you don't have to do that," I said to them. " I'm Kyle, and you are?" "I'm Jason this is Sean sir." the one closest to me said. " Good to meet you." I said. "and lose the sir. Just call me Kyle, everybody else does." "Ok," Sam said addressing the pair. "Since everybody knows everybody, why don't you guys come in for breakfast."
Jason spoke up. " Thanks but no," he said. "We already had some. Plus the king wants us to take you to him and the Queen ASAP."
With those words, we all went inside the house and picked up our stuff. Jason and Sean helped us with some. We took them outside and stowed them in the trunks of both cars. We agreed that my foster parents would ride with Sean while Sam and I rode with Jason. We got into the cars turned around and headed in the direction from which Jason and Sean had come. As I looked back at my last home, I could help but marvel at the many changes it had brought me. It was hard for me to keep a straight face. I turned around and looked at Sam then took her hand in mine for comfort. I couldn't explain how I felt. I was finally going to meet my real parents.
