Chapter 105 Ava: Training (II)

Halfway around the track, Jericho pops up again.

There's never been a person I've love-hated as much as him, and I have a fucked up family that inspires all kinds of hate to go with the love a family shares.

"What," I grunt as I lunge forward, stretching my legs and dipping down with my wildly weak arms. They're beyond trembling. They're like jello, and I can barely raise the dumbbells from my sides.

But I don't stop.

"Straighten your back," Jericho growls, eyeing my pose critically. "Keep your core tight."

I adjust my stance, trying to maintain balance as my leg muscles quiver. Jericho grunts, apparently finding my form acceptable, before shoving something at me.

"Here. Two pound dumbbells. Never had to start someone so low before."

I glance down at the weights, surprised to see they're a cute, bright pink color. They look pristine, like they've never been touched.

"Did you have someone buy these for me?" The question slips out before I can stop myself.

Jericho's eyes narrow. "None of your business," he barks, turning on his heel and storming off towards Lisa, who's struggling through her own set of lunges.

I can't help but giggle—in my head, because I have no breath to spare—as I continue the exercise, the small weights clutched in my hands. Despite Jericho's gruff demeanor, the fact that he went out of his way to get these for me sends a unexpected wave of warmth through my chest.

It's a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. Beneath his tough exterior, maybe Jericho isn't quite as cold as he seems.

"Lift those arms higher, Grey! You think this is a game?" Jericho's voice cuts through my momentary warmth like a knife.

the burn radiating through my muscles. Sweat pours down my face, stinging

Jericho is a heartless bastard after all. A sadistic, merciless

meets my gaze, unflinching, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He's enjoying this,

you could stop? Keep going!" He

the urge to throw one of these pretty pink dumbbells at his head. Barely. Instead, I force myself to continue, each lift sending

are on fire, trembling uncontrollably. I'm pretty sure this is what dying feels like. But I won't give Jericho the satisfaction of seeing me

Ava! You got this!" Lisa calls out from somewhere to my left, her voice strained

too. Poor Lisa. She's struggling as much as I

a lifeline, drawing strength from her support. We're

more reps. I can do this. I have to do this. For myself, for Lisa, and maybe just a little bit to spite

the pain, the exhaustion, the overwhelming desire to collapse on the ground and

a battle, a war waged against my own limitations. But I keep going, fueled by sheer stubbornness and the refusal to let Jericho

mercifully, I make it around the track. I have no

shaking arms. I'm panting, my heart racing, my entire body drenched in

go through this level

question. "Not a single Westwood wolf is born as

the energy, I'd protest

I don't have

I'm basically

exercises, pipes up. It's amazing how she still has the energy to talk after everything. "Hey, this isn't fair! You're putting me through shifter-level training,

mean, I'm

"Please. These are conditions for a human baby,

to the ground to stare

even walk until they're

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