Shattered Circle: The Witches Circle Book 3

by C. Larsen

  Shifting is a little easier this time, though no less painful. I wearily pull on my clothes and follow Gray into the manor. My stomach gurgles loudly as the scent of cooking meat hits me. I sway on my feet and Gray catches me with a hand on my lower back.

  "You're dead on your feet," he laughs. "Let's get something to eat, then you can pass out."

  "Sounds good to me." I trudge down the long corridor to the dining room, muscles protesting every step, grateful for Gray's steadying hand.

  I almost nod off a few times during dinner, jolting myself awake moments before my face lands on my plate.

  I finally give up the fight and drag myself toward the stairs. Gray smirks, but doesn't say a word as he follows me, probably to make sure I don't pass out on the stairs.

  By the time we make it to my bedroom, I'm leaning heavily on Gray, my legs the consistency of wet noodles. I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

  The next morning at breakfast, Gray meets me dressed in a black muscle tee and loose basketball shorts. I freeze, a forkful of eggs halfway to my mouth as my gaze roams over all those lovely shoulder muscles on display. Half of his mouth crooks up in a grin. I snap my gaze back to my plate.

  "Like what you see, luna?"

  "Please," I scoff. "I was momentarily petrified that your get-up means we'll be doing more running in the woods." I make my voice as casual as I can. It helps if I stare at my eggs while answering.

  "No running today," he says, laughing. "Instead, we'll be working on hand to hand combat."

  "Hand to hand? As in, we'll be fighting in human form?" This is different. I assumed we'd be focusing primarily on fighting techniques as wolves.

  "Yep. As you know from experience, it takes time to shift from one form to another. If you get attacked when you're human, you won't have enough time to shift, so you need to be able to defend yourself in either body."

  "I guess that makes sense." I flash a quick look up at him. He crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps stand out even more. If he wants me to fight him hand to hand, he could have at least chosen something less distracting to wear.

  "Let me get changed," I say with a sigh. These next few hours are going to be interesting...

  When I'm dressed in loose yoga pants and a t-shirt, Gray leads me down a set of stairs into the basement. The basement looks to be just as huge as the main floor, broken up with long hallways leading to more rooms than I can count. He opens a heavy wooden door near the end and motions me in. Keeping my gaze straight ahead, I walk past him into the room.

  My footsteps sound oddly hollow on the springy wooden floor. I trail my hand along the bright red walls which are covered with thick foam padding. My breath catches when I catch sight of the huge raised boxing ring in the middle of the room. I take another peek at his bulging arms. I won't stand a chance in a boxing match with him.

  Instead of the boxing ring, Gray leads me to a large area near the back with mats built into the floors.

  "We'll start with Jujitsu."

  "Jujitsu? Like what they use in those MMA fights on TV? Like arm bars and stuff?"

  He grins at the skepticism in my voice. "Exactly. This fighting style is all about using your opponents’ force and body weight against them. Helpful when fighting someone bigger than yourself. Come here, I'll show you how it works."

  I walk onto the mats, eyeing him warily. He takes up a fighting stance, hands raised at the ready.

  "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to hit girls?"

  Gray tips his head back and laughs. "Sorry, never learned that lesson. I know plenty of girls who could wipe the floor with men twice their size."

  "Well, I don't think I'm one of those girls..."

  He cocks his head to the side, eyes serious. "Sure you are. I just need to teach you how." Without warning, he lunges, two hundred pounds of rock-solid male bearing down on me. I react without thinking, using my telekinesis to throw him backward, across the room. Thankfully the walls are padded, so he only gets the wind knocked out of him.

  "No fair," he grunts out, pulling himself into a sitting position. "You cheated."

  "I didn't cheat." I cross my arms and jut out my chin. "I'm a witch. It's part of who I am."

  He climbs to his feet, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, you're also part werewolf. Your witch powers will definitely give you an advantage in most situations, but you still need to learn to fight without them."

  "Why?"

  "Someday you may find yourself in a situation where you can't use your powers. What will you do then?"

  "Like that will ever happen," I scoff.

  "Maybe, maybe not, but how do you expect to get control over your wolf if you don't allow yourself to trust her instincts in a fight?"

  "But... I'm in human form right now. Not wolf."

  "Human or wolf, she's inside you, and if you let her, her reflexes and instincts will help you protect yourself. You have to trust her, let her come to the surface and guide you. It's the only way you'll fully integrate. Once you learn that, then you can toss me around with your bad-ass witchy powers to your heart’s content."

  "Promise?" I ask sweetly, flashing my teeth.

  He smiles, moving back to the center of the mat. "Now come at me like you're attacking. No powers this time."

  I give him a look, but at his nod I awkwardly charge him. I attempt to tackle him, aiming my shoulder at his midsection, but before I even come close, he side-steps, grabbing my arm and flipping me over his shoulder.

  My stomach lurches, unprepared for the sudden shift in gravity. I land with a thump, my back flat on the mat, staring up at the ceiling. I expect to feel pain, but surprisingly nothing hurts. I lay in shock for a minute before leaping to my feet, a huge smile on my face.

  "That was incredible! You have to teach me how to do that."

  Gray grins, excitement shining in his eyes. "Here, I'll walk you through the moves."

  He spends the next hour breaking down the motions until I'm able to flip him on his back without hesitation. Being able to physically throw someone as big as Gray is a huge rush. A fire ignites inside me, excitement singing through my veins.

  "Show me more."

  Gray's eyes crinkle at the corners, his face diffused in genuine delight. "Then come here, luna. Let me teach you."

  By the time he calls it quits, I've learned three different techniques to bring an attacker to the ground, including the shoulder flip. Surprisingly, I’m disappointed when Gray leads me from the room, but I perk up when he says he'll teach me how to do an arm lock and a choke hold tomorrow.

  I assume we're going to head up for some lunch, but instead he takes me to what looks like a home gym. There are free weights, a bench press, a squat rack, and other machines I can't even guess at. He walks over to the bench press and crosses his arms over his chest, waiting.

  "You’re joking, right?"

  "Afraid not, luna."

  "You want me to lift weights?"

  "Yup."

  "No."

  "Part of the training, Ems. Learning to fight is only half the battle. You have to be strong enough to effectively use the moves I teach you."

  "But I'm a werewolf. Doesn't that automatically make me super strong?"

  Gray laughs. "Yes, you're stronger than a normal human, but so are the other werewolves, so if you don't train and get as strong as you can, you'll never be able to win a fight against a more experienced werewolf."

  I hesitate. I guess he has a point, but now that the adrenaline is wearing off, I realize how sore I am.

  I sigh and glance at the clock on the wall. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can eat lunch.

  Gray positions himself on the bench press and demonstrates the proper way to do the exercise, keeping his feet flat on the floor and tightening his whole body when lifting. Watching his muscles ripple and strain under the bar sends a tingling sensation through my body, but I do my best to pay attention. When it's my turn, he removes all the plates and has me practic
e with the empty bar first. After correcting my form a few times, he slowly starts adding weight every few reps, sliding more plates on until it’s so heavy my arms shake trying to get the bar back in the holder.

  "One-fifty. Not bad for your first time." Gray starts unloading the plates from the bar while I massage my arms. "Time for squats."

  Gray guides me through exercise after exercise, spotting me when I need it and occasionally correcting my form.

  By the end of the session my hands are shaking so badly I can’t take a sip from my water bottle without spilling it. Gray doesn't look tired at all even though he was working out between my sets, lifting more than double what I was.

  My legs tremble as I climb the stairs. I've lost all interest in food by this point—all I want is to take a hot shower and pass out in bed—but Gray insists I need the protein, so after stuffing food down my throat as fast as possible, I stumble up to my bedroom.

  Gray follows me to the door of my room and chuckles as I fumble with the door knob. "Having trouble?"

  "Ugh," I groan, finally getting the damn knob to turn. "I hate you."

  He laughs again. "Don't worry, Em, you'll feel better by the time we hit the gym again tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow? We're weight training again tomorrow?"

  "Yup. After running, of course."

  A whimper escapes and I nearly cry at the thought.

  "Don't worry. Your muscles will be all healed up by then. One of the perks of being a werewolf."

  I grumble, slamming the door in his stupid, smirking face.

  Chapter 19

  Gray's knock on my door the next morning comes way too early. I unhappily roll out of bed, expecting my muscles to scream in protest, but it turns out Gray was right. I flex my arms. They're still a bit sore, but manageable. I pull on a new t-shirt and some comfortable yoga pants and trudge downstairs for our run.

  One day blurs into the next, exhaustion and sore muscles making up the greater part of my time, and as I begin getting stronger, able to run longer and lift more and more weight, a part of me begins to enjoy the challenge of it, and even the sore muscles afterward. It's strangely rewarding. I've never been one for exercise, but it's fun to see the almost instant improvements. And having Gray as my trainer, wrestling with him and watching him work out, doesn't suck either.

  Over the next month Gray continues to push me in our training, working primarily on fighting and shifting, along with the continued weight training and running. Nikolay has decided that until I'm adequately trained I won't be joining Isabel, Miles and the others at school. Gray, who's responsible not just for my training but also my safety, won’t be going back to school until I'm ready either. Instead, Vasily signed us up for online classes so we don’t fall too far behind.

  Shifting on command is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. Gray says the more often you shift the easier it will become, but shifting every day as we've been doing uses up huge amounts of energy and leaves me exhausted after every training session.

  To Gray's everlasting amusement, I still make him turn around when I need to change. Then, once I manage to shift, we play fight so he can teach me different moves and techniques. I learn to let my wolf out just enough to take advantage of her skill and instincts, but not enough to give her complete control. I have to work constantly to keep her in check. But despite my improvements, I keep losing to Gray in our mock battles. He thinks it's because I won't give my wolf enough free reign, but I insist it's just because he's larger and more experienced.

  Occasionally Miles and Isabel help with my mock battles after they get home from school. Since Miles is submissive, the fights with him are easy. Isabel poses more of a challenge, but I manage to win against her about half the time, which according to Gray, is great for the short amount of time I've been training.

  After our mock battles, we run through the forest. Gray teaches me how stalk quietly through the woods, how to track animals, and how to take down larger prey. Under his tutelage, I'm becoming an efficient predator. At the next few hunts, I’m able to keep control of my wolf. And though I dreaded the hunts, I actually end up having a lot of fun at them. We don't come across any more moose, for which I'm thankful, but I do end up chasing a few rabbits, and even help Gray and Isabelle take down a deer on one hunt.

  After running, it's inside for Jujitsu and weight lifting, then dinner, homework, then finally sleep. And, so it goes, day after day, week after week.

  As I begin mastering more and more techniques, my training sessions with Gray intensify. After a month, I'm able to shift on my own and can keep my wolf contained more easily. I still don't let her fully out of her cage, but I give her a little bit more leash, accepting her advice and acting on her instincts. My fighting skills improve immensely, and I even win a couple of fights against Gray, though I suspect he’s going easy on me. Still, considering how I was when I first got here, it's a huge improvement.

  By the start of my second month in Ashwood, we move on to learning about partial shifts. Gray explains that sometimes a werewolf is attacked in human form and doesn't have enough time to fully shift. Instead, the werewolf can perform a partial shift, only allowing certain body parts to transform, giving them the teeth and claws of a wolf while retaining their human form.

  Partial shifts are a hell of a lot more difficult than a complete shift. Though it doesn’t hurt as much, it takes way more control and concentration. No matter how often we practice it, I can only mange to transform my nails into claws, and even then, I can’t hold the change for very long.

  The moves and fighting techniques when in a partial shift are also harder to master. Fighting as a human against an opponent's razor-sharp claws is a lot different than fighting as a wolf; you're a lot more vulnerable in human form without the protection of your wolf's thick pelt. Werewolf claws can slice through a human’s skin and organs as easily as a knife through butter.

  Gray drills me relentlessly. We spend almost every day together, fighting, training, and occasionally bickering. But despite the many hours spent half-dressed and wrestling, Gray remains utterly professional. Aside from that first morning before training when he caught me checking him out, he’s barely made one flirtatious comment. It seems his attraction to me ended the moment I joined the pack.

  I guess I was right. He only flirted with me to get me to Ashwood. Nikolay needed the ‘Chain Breaker’ and I needed the pack’s protection. I don’t know why I thought it was anything else.

  Despite my mixed feelings about Gray’s sudden lack of interest, I have to admit he’s entertaining to be around. He’s able to make the most torturous or mundane training session fun. Even running for hours on end is bearable when he’s running with me.

  But Gray still has his pack duties, and every few days he has to go out to patrol their territory, guarding against interlopers and rogue werewolves. On these days, Grant and Max stay with me. We usually hang out in the Den playing games or head out into the forest for hide and seek.

  Though he's young, Max has an exceptional nose. No matter how I backtrack or cover my trail, I can’t win against him. Once I even tried walking through a small stream, trudging through the icy water for almost a mile before hiding in a clump of blackberry bushes on its bank, but all I succeeded in doing was making myself wet and cold. He still found me.

  Compared to him, my tracking abilities are atrocious. In fact, it's the one area I can't seem to improve in, no matter how hard I try. Gray says I just need more practice, and Max, thrilled that his skill in this area is so far above mine, has made it his mission to teach me, which is why we started these games to begin with. But, despite both their efforts, I remain a novice tracker at best.

  Although I lose every time, Max and I continue to play hide and seek whenever we can. I can certainly use the practice, and Max is thrilled to be helping Gray with my training. Not to mention, playing with Max is just plain fun. He’s a bright little boy, always cheerful and full of energy. He reminds me of a playful li
ttle puppy, easily excitable, mischievous at times, but always able to brighten your day.

  One Friday, after being in Ashwood for nearly a month, Grant, Max and I go out into the woods to play hide and seek while Gray’s on guard duty. When it's Max's turn to hide, I close my eyes and begin counting out loud, giving Max time to hide. He doesn't need much time, really, since I won't be able to track him anyway, but I still count slowly, working up the courage to ask Grant a question that's been weighing on my mind.

  When I first arrived in town I was told that Roman left the pack, but no one would give me any more information than that. Gray had said some of the older wolves might know more, but I hadn’t had a chance—or the nerve—to ask anyone yet. But after spending so much time with Grant, I finally feel comfortable enough to broach the subject.

  When I'm sure Max is far enough away not to overhear, I turn to Grant. "So, you've been with Nikolay's pack for a long time, huh?"

  Grant's dark eyes meet mine steadily, no expression betraying his thoughts. "Yeah, I've been with Nikolay for a long time. I came here with him from Russia."

  "So...that means you must have known Roman then?"

  "I knew him.”

  "Well, can you tell me anything about him? About why he left or where he went? What happened to him?"

  "Honestly, no one knows what happened to Roman," Grant says, looking out into the trees in the direction Max went in. "He was devastated when Elizabeth ran away. A few weeks after she left, he just disappeared. He severed his pack bonds, so we couldn’t communicate with him. We assumed he left to look for Elizabeth. Nikolay sent out hunting parties to find him, but we never heard anything from him again.”

  "So, he could still be alive? He could be out there somewhere, still looking?"

  Grant avoids my gaze. "I doubt it. If he were still alive after all these years, he wouldn't be sane. Without a pack, he would have gone feral after a few months. A year at most."

  “Maybe he joined another pack. That’s possible, right?”