Tangled

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.

105 Ava Training (1)

“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.

through my muscles. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes. The weights feel

back. Jericho is

15:23

Training

sadistic, merciless drill

break me.

meets my gaze, unflinching, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

his arms across his chest. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of

one of these pretty pink dumbbells at his head. Barely. Instead, I force myself to continue,

sure this is what dying feels like. But I won’t give Jericho the

it kills

got this!” Lisa calls out from somewhere to my

her, too. Poor Lisa.

cling to her words like a

15:23

Training

in this together, suffering under Jericho’s tyrannical rule. United in our misery.

have to do this. For myself, for Lisa, and

Jericho.

determination I possess, pushing through the pain, the exhaustion, the overwhelming desire to collapse on the ground and

lift is a battle, a war waged against my own limitations. But I keep going,

Jericho break me.

track. I have no idea how long it’s been. I’m basically

to the ground, I lose all control over my shaking arms. I’m panting, my heart racing, my entire body drenched in sweat.

wolves go through this level of

even close” Jericho

“Not a single Westwood wolf is born as weak as you are

energy, I’d protest his

don’t have any.

I said, I’m basically

her own 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, and I’m

I’m basically

to hear. “Please. These are conditions for a human baby, and