Page 88
Full disclosure, it really never stood a chance. Almost as soon as I walked outside, I was soaked in sweat. The late evening sun barely peeks over the trees, but it’s still hot as an Omega in heat out here.
The summers on the East Coast can be brutal, and I’m thankful for the forested area that backs up to the training ground. It doesn’t offer much shade, but it’s better than nothing. I’ve just finished on the striking post, and I stretch out my fingers, examining my bloody knuckles. They’ve already healed, but the skin is still tight.
Daxen is completing what’s probably his eighty-second lap around the track, and some of the trainees are sparring with each other at the side of the yard closer to their barracks. I pluck out my AirPods and drop them into my pocket. I need food, and about twelve green sports drinks.
“Heading in?” Dax asks when he passes me on the track.
“Yeah, man,” I reply, running a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. “I’ve had about all I can fucking take of this soup disguised as air.”
“Hold up, I’ll come with you.”
He veers off the track to grab his clothes, stopping to steal towels from a stack off one of the tables. He tosses one my way, and I gratefully drag it over my face and hair, mopping up the moisture.
“Goddssss this heat is killer. When’s Fall again?”
Dax snorts. “It’s May, you fucking baby.”
I groan and pull open the side door, breathing a sigh of relief when the AC hits my sweaty skin.
When we get to the kitchen, Silas is already seated at the table, boots kicked up on the chair next to him. He has one slice of pizza in his hand and five on his plate. I watch in mild disgust as he pours half a bag of chili-cheese Fritos on top of the pizza like they’re a garnish. He salutes us with his plate, lifting his chin in greeting.
“You eat like a feral ten-year-old boy,” Dax sneers, walking past him to grab a plate out of the refrigerator. “You know we have actual food here, right? Chicken, meatloaf, turkey. Hell, I’m pretty sure the cook made homemade chicken and noodles earlier and put it in a special little Tupperware.”
“Yeah,” Silas’s response is muffled by a mouthful of food. He swallows hastily and adds, “But none of that comes with a side of ‘fuck you and die mad about it.’”
I bark out a laugh, popping the top off of a sports drink and chugging half of it in one go. Dax glares at me over Silas’s head and grabs his own drink. “When’s your pack get back, Silas?”
Silas shrugs. “Dunno. Talked to Ford this morning and he said they’re, and I quote, ‘in a jam with no jelly.’” He extends a hand, making grabby motions with his fingers. “Hey Dax, toss me one of those, yeah?”
“What? A bottle of water?”
“Yeah, I’m thirsty.”
“Why do you do everything I do?”
“You showed up where I was, fucknugget.”
“Alright, calm down,” I snatch a bottle of water and toss it to Silas before stepping in front of my packmate and shoving him back with a hand to the chest.
Pointing between the two Alphas, I ask, “What the hell is this about?”
“Nothing.” Dax shrugs me off. “Silas has been following me around since Ford and Evander left for Chicago.”
He’s still glaring at the younger vampire, and I roll my eyes.
“Dude, sorry. I’m bored.” Silas huffs, not sounding sorry at all. “Ford lets me work on his car with him, or Evander at least sits in the same room with me and reads while I do real things.”
“Real things? As opposed to…” I raise a brow in question
“Yeah. You know.” He pauses, glancing between us like he expects us to understand his chaotic mind. “Not like… Hobbit things.”
“Oh, fuck me,” Dax groans and grabs his plate, making a point of walking to the other side of the twenty-person table, far from Silas before adding, “Reading Lord of the Rings is not considered ‘doing hobbit things.’”
Silas frowns. “Then what would you call it?”
“Reading,” Dax and I both snap.
Dax rubs his temples, and I can’t help but chuckle.
