Chapter 13

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Zoey

I didn't sleep much that night, the anticipation of my first day back in training bombarding my mind with questions. Would I remember anything? How much would I have to relearn? How hard would Stitch push me? How weak was I really?

I waited until Van had left for his morning run before I sprang out of bed to get ready. Stitch had suggested doing a sort of skills diagnostic test before breakfast. Get it out of the way before I have a chance to freak or back out. Either he knew me better than I thought, or he'd trained enough people to know the tendencies of rookies.

Once she knew that I was going to be training, Luna took me shopping. I'd been borrowing her clothes and making due, but workout clothes hadn't been in her lended closet. While I didn't want Luna buying everything for me, I didn't have any other way of getting what I'd need. Maybe I could find ways to be helpful around the house to earn my keep. They wouldn't expect me to do it, but I would feel better if I knew that I was doing something to be helpful.

Dressed in my matching leggings, tank top, and running jacket with a clean new pair of tennis shoes, I jogged down the stairs to the main floor. Stitch was already waiting in the foyer, scrolling through his phone as he paced. His forehead wrinkled for a second. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up and immediately tucked his phone into the back pocket of his jeans.

"You ready?"

I glanced down at myself, hoping I didn't look too ridiculous. "...as ready as I can be, I guess. I have no clue what I'm doing, so you'll have to tell me."

His gaze flickered over my outfit before settling on my face. A little glimmer of something sparkled in his eyes. "I think you'll do just fine, Zoey. We're just seeing how much you remember; nothing too intense or straining."

I followed him out the front door, around the corner of the house, and into the woods. A few yards into the trees, there was a small clearing where someone had obviously prepared the space for training purposes. The grass had had a little chance to grow, but it was still short enough to not be annoying.

"This is more of a wrestling ring," Stitch informed me, "but it'll work well for our purposes. I only need enough space to move around, so we'll be fine here."

I nodded and pulled my shoulders back to stretch the muscles. I did remember how much I hurt if I didn't warm up before working out. One particularly painful memory ricocheted in my mind, sending phantom pain to my lower back and right hip. Yeah... that day sparring with my best friend had been rough. She went a little too hard, and I ended up with a few bruises.

Stitch shrugged out of his jacket, revealing the well-fitted black T-shirt underneath. "What kind of things were you doing in training when you left your pack?"

"The usual," I shrugged. "Self-defense maneuvers, sparring, punching, blocking, archery, a tiny little bit of knife throwing..."

He cocked an eyebrow. "That's quite the extensive resume you've got. Anything you didn't do?"

I bent my leg and grabbed my foot to stretch the quad muscle. "Everyone in the pack got a basic overview of every kind of training. If someone is a fighter and stay in the pack with a mate, they get to choose which type of combat they will specialize in."

"...which would you have chosen?"

I had just finished the basics when my birthday came around and I found Jax. I'd never had the chance to find out if I even qualified as a fighter, so I'd never thought about which direction I would have taken my training.

Stitch must have understood my silence because he waved a hand to dismiss the question. "Let's see what you remember, and then maybe we'll let you specialize in one area."

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