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.

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

Jericho is a

15:23

Training (II)

drill sergeant determined to

break me.

him through the strands of hair plastered to my forehead. He meets my gaze, unflinching, a smirk playing

say you could stop? Keep going!” He barks, folding his arms across his chest. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet

head. Barely. Instead, I force myself to continue, each lift sending fresh shockwaves of agony through

arms are on fire, trembling uncontrollably. I’m pretty sure this is what dying feels like. But I won’t give Jericho

if it

from somewhere to my left, her voice strained but

course, Jericho yells at her, too. Poor Lisa. She’s

words like a lifeline

15:23

Ava: Training

from her support. We’re in this together, suffering under Jericho’s tyrannical rule. United in our misery.

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

Jericho.

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

Two. Three. Each lift is a battle, a war waged against my own limitations. But I keep going, fueled by sheer stubbornness and the refusal to let

Jericho break me.

around the track. I have no idea how long it’s

over my shaking arms. I’m panting, my heart racing, my entire body drenched in sweat.

wolves go through this level of hell?

close” Jericho scoffs, answering mv

Westwood wolf is born

had the energy, I’d protest

I don’t have any.

I’m basically dead now.

energy to talk. after everything. “Hey, this isn’t fair! You’re putting me through shifter–level training, and I’m human!”

I’m basically human too…

to hear. “Please. These are conditions for a