by JoAnna Grace
But this was a subject she didn’t like to talk about. Hmm, how to lie and tell the truth at the same time?
“I don’t know if you have any sort of program for dominant females here, but in Nevada, they did.”
Sampson shook his head, squinting his eyes. He motioned with his hand for her to spar with him. His fists went up, ready for her usually vicious attacks.
“Well, when a dominant female turns thirteen, she is required to attend this integration program.” She sneered at the word as she gave him a right, then left punch. “It’s supposed to try and help the girls deal with their dominance and, in my opinion, leach it out of them. Turn them from predatory females into proper ladies. Most of the girls in the program could adhere to the rules because their animals were not defiantly strong. A few of us, Vivian included, didn’t take to the rules so well.”
“Shocker.” Sampson kicked out and would have gotten her right in the gut if he had actually been trying.
“Dang it, that could have been bad.” Amilynn referred to his kick.
“You are only watching my hands.” He shook his gloves.
“Oh, now you tell me the rules. Didn’t realize this was a cage fight.” With a quick twist, she threw up her leg and kicked across his torso. Sampson stumbled back and had to right himself.
“What happened to girls like you and V?”
“We were put in another program. Instead of teaching us how to deal with raising kittens and working over kitchens, we were taught to utilize our dominance. Girls like us were expected to be productive—in one way or another. Since we passed on reproduction, we were assigned to military duty.”
“That explains your artillery skills.” Sampson gave her a couple of light punches that she blocked efficiently.
“Firearms were a specialty that I excelled in. By the time I was seventeen, I could out shoot my instructor. He didn’t take it well. But he never tried to hold me back; he kept right on pushing me to get better, master different guns, different situations.”
“Distance?”
Amilynn nodded.
“They were training you to be an assassin.”
“They did train me to be an assassin. I was right there beside Ty in the males’ sharpshooting classes. He and I were the best. But they hated me.”
Sampson could see by the way her stance grew less aggressive that her mind was not on their sparring, but back in Nevada, in a past that haunted her. “Why?”
“Something about me being too . . . unmanageable and flippant.” She grinned slyly.
“So you were a smartass even then?”
She winked. “How’d you guess?”
Sampson laughed and shrugged innocently. Amilynn just smiled. They ended up sitting on a bench, sucking down water.
“How did you end up performing with the girls?”
“Dancing is something I’ve always loved. My parents made me take dance when I was really young, hoping it would get rid of some of my energy and make me more feminine, blah, blah, blah. When I got into the second level program, which was every day after school, I had to quit dance classes. But I’m quick to pick things up.”
“You spent a lot of your time away from home.”
“Not a bad thing,” Ami said quickly.
“I know.” Sampson pursed his lips. She’d divulged some of her secrets and peeled back another layer, leaving herself exposed. By now, he knew the signs of her withdrawal.
Ami stood and took her boxing gloves over to the shelf where they belonged. “It’s cool, you know. It just made things that much easier when it was time for all of us to leave. No attachments holding me there.”
Ami’s parents were horrible. Mom was a lush and Dad liked to keep her drunk and naked. Sampson didn’t speak but he nodded. How anyone could treat their children the way the Nevada Pride did was beyond his comprehension. His boys were his heart, Bianca his soul. All of them were cherished and loved beyond words.
None of the Blake Pride members had that. Vivian’s and Melissa’s parents were crap, Amilynn’s and Ty’s parents were abusive. He didn’t know much about Conall’s family. But he could only imagine. Those kids didn’t have a chance in hell. No wonder they’d ended up on the run, selling themselves to the highest bidder.
“Not to be rude,” Ami broke into his thoughts, “‘cause you’re cool and I respect you, but I don’t need your pity or whatever that expression on your face is.” She waved her finger in a circle around his face. “My family was shit except for Ty, and thank God. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to walk away from that hellhole. My real family is V and Mel, Ty and Conall. Not to mention now, I’ve got your two little punks who follow me like puppies.” They shared a grin at the mention of her shadows. Then she grew serious. “I’ve learned to be alone and I’m good with that.”
“I’m glad your family in Nevada didn’t hold you there, Amilynn. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t get the opportunity to witness my son having to meow and lick himself or piss in a litter box.” Sampson smiled and held out his fist for a bump.
“Sweet.” Ami touched her knuckles to his.
“Hey, let’s head over to the shooting range before your class.” He tossed her another bottle of water. “I think some of the soldiers are over there. You can observe and maybe teach them a thing or two.”
“Sounds good.”
Sampson might not be able to erase her past, but he could work on her future. What Amilynn needed was a father—a real father who loved her unconditionally and disciplined with the heart of a person who only wanted the best for her. She might be an adult by the number of candles on her cake, but he saw a vulnerable little girl.
His wolf snarled inside. Family. Protect her, he said. Sampson was inclined to agree. If his suspicions were correct, she was going to be his daughter one day. Might as well build a foundation for their relationship now.
As Pack members arrived for their self-defense lessons, Sampson marveled at how quickly the meadow filled up with people. Men and women of all levels of dominance stood around, waiting for their instructor. Some parents had even pulled their kids out of school for the morning. Vivian stood to the side, allowing Ami to take point.
“Good morning,” Amilynn said as she made her way to a small mound that placed her higher above the crowd. “Are you people wolves or rabbits? You keep multiplying.”
The Pack laughed and a few folks looked around to examine the numbers.
Amilynn’s smile was wide and genuine. Her hair was pulled back into her signature ponytail and she was dressed in black spandex pants and a hot pink tank top that hugged her body. Was this why so many men showed up? To see the pretty young girl?
Sampson’s wolf didn’t like that. She shouldn’t be on display like an exhibit at the circus. It left a sour taste in his mouth.
“So,” Ami continued with the clap of her hands. “How many of you went home and took down your spouse or parent last night?”
Pack members lifted their hands. Sampson recognized a few of their spouses who were laughing. One guy rubbed his gut as if his wife had bruised him pretty good.
“Awesome. For our new students, we like to promote healthy marriages around here by teaching you how to defend yourself and trying it out on your spouse.” She pointed to someone down front who Sampson couldn’t see. “You look like she popped you a good one. Sorry about that.” To his spouse, Ami winked and gave thumbs up. The crowd laughed. “Star student right there.”
Now Sampson understood. Amilynn was magnetic. He got lost listening to her crack jokes and review what they’d learned the last couple of days. People were attracted to her and not because of her looks, but her charisma and her vibrant personality.
“She’s so good with them, isn’t she?” Bianca said as she leaned her head on Sampson’s shoulder. His wolf inhaled her scent and went a little crazy at the glory of it. Having a mate was God’s gift to shifters.
“She is. I see why the boys like her so much.”
&nb
sp; Bianca giggled. “Me too, even if she does have some pretty harsh punishments for losing bets.”
They both chuckled, remembering how Nate had to clean out the litter box this morning. Sampson had spewed his coffee.
They turned their attention back to Amilynn.
“This morning, we’re going to have a demonstration for you,” Amilynn said, clapping her hands with excitement. It was unbelievable to think such a cute, jovial woman could turn into a stone cold killer in the face of danger. Sampson had an in-depth discussion with Conall one day about the events that led to their escaping Nevada. Make no mistake, Amilynn might be all girly head-bobs and funny jokes, but she’d manned up and kicked some ass when the time came.
Sampson and Bianca perked up when Ezekiel came to stand by Amilynn. “This should be good,” he said to his wife.
“Keep in mind,” Amilynn said, “we haven’t rehearsed this. If either of us gets injured, well, shit happens.” She shrugged, but Ezekiel turned to her with mock horror, getting a rise from the audience.
Vivian stood between them and addressed the crowd. “Okay, someone tell me what you notice first about these two?”
Various voices in the crowd hollered out things like weight difference, muscle mass, and height difference.
Vivian nodded with each correct answer. “Yes, very good. Ezekiel has what I like to think of as the typical wolf body type. Bears are quite similar. You are all very stocky, whereas most feline shifters are leaner built.”
“With the exception of Conall, our lion. But he’s a freak of nature.” Amilynn threw in the joke, which was effective at keeping people’s attention.
“The other thing that is different between these two is something you can’t see,” Vivian said. “It’s experience. Ezekiel has had your typical Pack training and it’s impressive. I’ve seen your soldiers work out; you have a good military. But your training doesn’t start until late in the teenage years. The Nevada Pride starts as young as five years old.” The Pack members reacted to this mind-blowing news with gasps and growls. Babies. Nevada’s leadership was recruiting babies. “They teach the cubs how to track, how to hunt in animal form, how to take down bigger prey. Then, at the tender age of thirteen, based on how you’ve accelerated thus far, they have specific programs that require daily training. For submissives, it’s as innocent as sewing and cooking, even how to use the power of submissives to keep the Pride stable. Nothing unhealthy, just preparing the younger generation to deal with the beasts inside them. For others, like the overly dominant, they trained us to kill.” Vivian cast a glance to Amilynn, whose jaw tightened. “So keep in mind that although some Pride soldiers might look relatively young, they’ve had much more training than you know. You’re lucky to have Amilynn here to share some of her experience with you.”
Sampson wished like hell he could eradicate all the bastards who turned women like Amilynn and Vivian into tools and living weapons. Sure, their experience kept them alive. But if they’d had a healthy Pride back home, they wouldn’t have needed it. The Blackburn Pack hadn’t fought a war since before Kasey’s father ruled. Decades ago, it had been over territory. Once that was settled, peace and prosperity had covered the Pack. Even the integration of the bear clans hadn’t come with bloodshed. There were issues, sure. No killing, though.
The problem was how the separate prides, clans, and packs around the world lived so isolated. There was no true unity. Their alliances only went so far as to allow members of other groups the opportunity to browse for a mate. Males and females often traveled to other territories in search of love. Each visit had an expiration date, though. Speed dating was practically invented by shapeshifters.
Because of the isolation and insulation, Nevada’s alpha, Trace, had gone unchecked. A man didn’t order children to be tested for their ability to kill if he wasn’t planning a major assault on someone in the future. Could the Nevada alpha have his eyes on Blackburn territory? Or some other area already inhabited by shifters? Were Vivian and her Pride really all Trace wanted or were they simply a convenient excuse to execute a grander plan?
Ezekiel going feet first over Amilynn’s back and landing with a hard thud on the ground interrupted Sampson’s thoughts. His son moaned and had a hard time getting to his feet.
“The real lesson here is,” Ezekiel said, rubbing his back and flinching, “don’t piss off a feline. I think she broke me.” His groaning only made the crowd laugh.
Ami, on the other hand, bounced back and forth, that ponytail swaying, ready for him to come at her again. “Don’t worry, pup. I’ll throw a stick for ya later and you’ll be fine.” Her playful antics were amusing the onlookers. “Did you guys see what happened? He came at me with force and I used his own momentum against him. It’s one of the first things we felines learn because we have less body mass.”
Three more times, Amilynn laid out Ezekiel. Not because he wasn’t trying; Amilynn was just that good. With every defeat, Ezekiel’s attacks grew more aggressive. He quit holding back and put up a fight. The best part was the insults they traded back and forth.
“Don’t be catty.”
“Come on, boy, roll over.”
“Can’t you find some yarn and leave me alone?”
“Get up, Fido. I didn’t tell you to play dead.”
Ezekiel and Amilynn were like a comedy duo. No wonder people enjoyed these lessons. The two of them enjoyed the teasing as well. With each insult and comment, they would laugh more, a glimmer shining in their eyes when they looked at each other.
“Do you see that?” Bianca whispered to Sampson, her hand over her chest. “They have such chemistry.” Her observation was tinted with both fear and hope. Did she know that their son had fallen for Amilynn?
Finally, on his fifth attempt, Ezekiel pinned Amilynn down with her arms behind her back, face in the dirt. Good job kids, he thought. They might not have a roses-and-chocolates type relationship. But maybe they could find love over bruises-and-banter.
AMILYNN EVENTUALLY BROKE free from the Pack members. There were quite a few who wanted to talk after her lesson. Females who felt empowered thanks to her, submissive males who wanted to learn to fight, but never brought themselves to it. Some wanted to talk technique and others just wanted to get to know her better—which was too freaking weird.
Satisfaction and personal pride welled up from the depths and chased out the negativity from last night.
“How did it go?” Melissa asked as Ami stopped in the kitchen for some lunch. She didn’t have to ask for food. Mel had a plate waiting.
“Well, I got three dinner invites, two of which were from single men, and one marriage proposal from a man who could be my grandfather—if my grandfather looked like that badass general from Avatar.”
Melissa laughed as Ami pulled her tired body onto a barstool. “Sounds like fun, I guess.”
“I got to beat up on a certain annoying wolf, so yeah.”
“Did you draw blood? Do we need to call Dr. Charles?” Melissa gave a sheepish grin.
Amilynn waved her off. “He’ll survive. It was pretty funny when a couple of the girls in the Pack yelled ‘payback’s a bitch’ and ‘sock ’em one for me.’” Ami had laughed at that.
Melissa’s eyes went wide. “Oh gosh. What did he do?”
Amilynn had to hand it to Z; he was a good sport. He didn’t try to deny the girls their third-party revenge or act all macho caveman. In fact, as he was on the ground wheezing, he said he was sorry. The crowd might have enjoyed the show, but she’d dished out a serious can of whoop-ass in the girls’ honor.
As crazy as it was—and it was definitely a nine-point-five on the psycho-scale—burning off some physical energy with Ezekiel made her feel lighter than she had in a while. He was an excellent partner and would improve the more comfortable he became with her. Today, he’d held back and that was okay, given the platform. What would it be like to have a rough and rowdy throw down with him? The kind that left her both panting and sore, wanting to do it aga
in as soon as she recovered.
Crap, was she thinking about fighting him or fucking him? Eh, either way, let’s go, said her leopard with a feminine flick of her tail. She was feeling sassy and aroused by their sparring match.
“I’m judging by the goofy grin on your face that he took it well?”
Ami’s face heated and she cleared her throat. “Yeah, you know, for the brat that he is.” She took a deep bite of her sandwich so she didn’t have to speak for a moment.
Melissa wiped down the countertops, but she was no fool. “Speaking of the devil,” she whispered.
Ezekiel stood at the back door, his hand on the knob. With him was a pretty young brunette who flipped her hair and batted her eyelashes. Ami recognized her from their class this morning. Ezekiel smiled at her, his brows raised. He cracked open the door and Ami had the feeling he was trying to make an escape.
She slid off the barstool and edged closer, keeping out of sight.
“Look, Kelsey, that sounds fun, really,” Ezekiel said. “But I’m kind of with someone.”
“Oh.” There was deep disappointment in the way her word fell. “Is it serious?”
What, was she going to press further if it wasn’t? Ami shook her head. These wolf females were far too needy for her taste.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Well, how can you just be kind of with someone if it’s serious? I mean, it’s just dinner. No one needs to know.”
Ami rolled her eyes. Poor Ezekiel stuttered and stammered, making himself look like a big liar. Kelsey wouldn’t budge. This was just sad.
Not to mention that Ami’s leopard had her ears pinned back, ready to rip out Kelsey’s throat for hitting on her mate. Ami ignored that.
She stepped out from her hiding place and yanked the door open. “Hey, babe, I’ve been looking for you.” Ami nuzzled her nose to Ezekiel’s neck. He stared at her, stuttering again. If he didn’t play along, this would never work. She took his hands and brought them together behind her back. Ami linked her arms around his shoulder and pasted her body to his side. “I made us lunch. You hungry?”