Caught Between Them

The morning sun, bless its chipper self, peeked through the trees, across the training grounds. Birds chirped around us cheerfully, a soundtrack to what I knew would be another glorious morning of getting my butt whooped by Brock.

“Ready for round two, pipsqueak?” Brock smirked, stretching with the grace of a panther waking from a nap. Ugh, why did he have to be so annoyingly good-looking even before a coffee?

“Knock it off, Brock,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. “Just because you used to wrestle grizzly bears for breakfast doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk about it.”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine in spite of myself. Traitorous spine.

“Hey, just keeping you on your toes,” Brock winked. “A good warrior needs to be prepared for anything, even a surprise attack by a particularly grumpy chipmunk.”

I swatted at him playfully, though secretly hoping to connect. He dodged with ease, his reflexes still lightning-fast despite the war wound courtesy of the rogue brawl.

“Alright, enough flirting,” a gruff voice boomed from behind us. I whipped around to see Logan, the alpha himself, striding onto the training grounds.

“Flirting?” I squeaked, my cheeks burning hotter than a phoenix’s nest as panic flared up in me. “There’s no flirting going on here, alpha! Brock’s just being his usual annoying self.”

Brock raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Oh? Is that how you see it, Amelia?”

I glared at him, but before I could launch into a fiery retort, Logan cleared his throat.

“Save it,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Just because you two bicker like siblings doesn’t mean there isn’t something… more there.”

More what, Logan? Mutual annoyance? A shared hatred for rogue attacks?

“There’s nothing more,” I insisted, voice firm despite the rising tide of heat in my face. And why did he seem unbothered by it considering he choose me as his mate.

And then, like a ghost materializing from thin air, Sage appeared at Logan’s side.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Amelia,” she said, her voice dripping with a sweetness that sent shivers down my spine not the good kind. “Sometimes, the strongest bonds are forged in the fires of competition.”

She winked at me, a playful glint in her eyes that felt more like a jab. Competition? The only thing Brock and I competed over was who could make the other groan the loudest during training.

“Sage,” I began, my voice tight, “where did you even come from?”

She just shrugged, that infuriatingly nonchalant shrug that made me want to shake her.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Just keeping an eye on things,” she replied, her gaze lingering on Brock for a beat too long before flickering back to me. “Wouldn’t want anything… unfortunate to happen, would we?”

My jaw clenched. Unfortunate? What was she implying? Did she think Brock and I were going to accidentally combust from all this nonexistent flirting?

“Look, Sage,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. “Just because you enjoy stirring the pot doesn’t mean there’s actually anything to stir.”

She simply smiled, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure, Amelia. I’m sure.”

The tension in the air was thicker than week-old gym socks. Logan, bless his oblivious self, seemed completely oblivious to the silent war brewing between Sage and me. He clapped his hands together, breaking the charged silence.

“Alright, enough chatter,” he boomed. “Let’s see what you’re both made of today. No holding back, Brock. Show Amelia what a real warrior looks like.”

Brock grinned, a genuine one this time, the kind that sent butterflies flapping in my stomach. Traitorous butterflies. “Don’t worry, alpha,” he said. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He lunged forward, his movements a blur as he launched into a surprise attack. The next few minutes were a whirlwind of sweat, grunts, and the satisfying thud of wooden practice swords clashing.

While Brock might have been the more experienced fighter, I wasn’t exactly a pushover. I used my agility and speed to my advantage, dodging his blows and landing a few good hits of my own.

“Nice one, Amelia!” Logan boomed from the sidelines. “You’re getting faster!”

I grinned, a surge of pride warming my chest. Maybe I wasn’t such a pipsqueak after all.

Throughout the fight, Sage remained a silent observer, her gaze darting between me and Brock like a hawk watching its prey. Every so often, she’d mutter a cryptic comment, adding fuel to the fire of my annoyance.

“Interesting strategy, Amelia,” she’d murmur, a hint of amusement in her voice. “But relying on brute force won’t always work.”

Or, “Look at him go, Amelia,” she’d coo at Brock, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “He’s a natural leader, isn’t he?”

The girl was practically playing devil’s advocate, pushing all my buttons with surgical precision. I wanted to snap back, to tell her to mind her own business, but the alpha’s presence kept me reined in.

As the training session wore on, the air grew heavier with unspoken tension. Brock, bless his clueless heart, seemed completely oblivious to Sage’s games. He focused on pushing me to my limits, his attacks becoming more relentless with each passing minute.

“Good,” he grunted, parrying a blow that sent a shockwave up my arm. “Don’t let up, Amelia. You’re getting predictable.”

He was right, of course. My frustration was affecting my fighting style, making me sloppy and easily countered.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to focus. I channeled my frustration and annoyance at Sage’s stupid mind games, into my movements. Suddenly, I saw an opening in Brock’s defense. With a well-placed thrust, I disarmed him, sending his wooden sword flying through the air.

A surprised laugh escaped my lips. “Ha! One for the pipsqueak!”

Brock, however, didn’t seem too fazed. He simply grinned, a flash of admiration in his eyes. “Nice work, Amelia. You’re getting smarter.”

Before we could banter any further, Logan stepped forward. “Alright, that’s enough for today. You both fought well.”

He looked at me, his gaze sharp. “Amelia, you’ve made some real progress. Keep it up.” He kissed my cheek and it felt pretty awkward. I could literally feel Brock’s gaze.

I nodded, feeling a surge of pride. Training sessions with Brock were always brutal, but also rewarding. He pushed me to be better, a better warrior, a better version of myself.

“Alright, everyone,” Logan continued, clapping his hands. “Let’s head back for breakfast. And Sage,” he added, a hint of suspicion in his voice, “perhaps you could help me with some paperwork today?”

Sage raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, I blurted out, “Actually, Logan, I was hoping to get some tips from Sage on my hand-to-hand combat skills.”

The words were out before I could stop them. Why did I just volunteer to endure Sage’s cryptic comments for another second? But there was something in her eyes, a flicker of challenge, that I couldn’t ignore.

Logan studied me for a beat, then nodded. “Alright, Amelia. But don’t overdo it. You both need a break.”

With that, he turned and headed towards the pack house, leaving us three alone on the training ground.

Sage tilted her head, her smile playing on the edge of mischievous. “So, Amelia,” she said, her voice a low purr. “Ready for another lesson?”

I squared my shoulders, determined to prove myself despite the nagging feeling that I’d just stepped into a trap. “Bring it on,” I muttered, bracing myself for another round, this time against Sage’s mind games and whatever fighting techniques she had up her sleeve. I was going to whoop her ass bad