His Ghost

Fight or Flee. 4

While we stood together, Greta leaned towards me and whispered, "This place is enormous. These fuckers have some serious money." The six of us, including Ava, had merged with the remainder of the group.

We made no introductions when we joined the other three girls. There was a silent understanding, and none of us needed to look up at the viewing platform that was semi-wrapped around the Gym. It is filled with pack warriors and, in one section, the potent aura of enforcers gathered together.

The whole thing was very Hunger Games. To her credit, Ava picked up on our energy; she remained quiet and stood alongside me, proud, fearless, and tall; she was fucking tall. I looked like a shorty. I shook it off.

When this was over, I promised to find her and help her shift; this environment would create a war within her. Not the shift; our wolves did not need to shift all the time, but mentally, they needed to lead in a fight, a confrontation, or a physically challenging event.

The moment adrenalin kicked in, our magic kicked in. Wolves, Lycans, Vampires, Demons - all of us were pure raw magic; we all took different forms.

Our group stayed stoic and reserved, radiating a sense of authority and primal strength. I had briefly second-guessed my Lycan pushing for this declaration, which right now it was. It was unheard of for five female Lycans to be present in this environment; our kind was reclusive and rarely spotted among shifters or any of the new order.

Now, I stood confident faith in her intuition. Together, we presented a formidable front - a warning that anyone who dared challenge one of us would face all of us. After seeing the girls, there was no way they would not have recognized us alone or as a group as Lycan.

A hush fell over the room as six instructors walked out, directing everyone into teams; they seemed on edge, confused. We were made to start doing warmups. It appeared they were stalling. No doubt my decision to reveal our strength. They did not know we were Lycan; I doubted anyone here had ever encountered one. But I knew Carter's enforcers would have, and their eyes were fixed on us.

I had no option; if they forced us to shift to train, the consequences would be far worse. Regardless, I knew Leon was going to be furious. This way, I was confident that his team would avoid anything involving a shift.

The space was at least three basketball courts wide and three long, resembling sliding doors on one wall. They must go to another Gym. Separate areas divide the floor. Wrestling mats, kickboxing areas, weights, and obstacle courses. It was well-organized.

A low growl rumbled through the Gym. Everyone looked up.

Intense whiskey-coloured eyes locked onto mine. They were the eyes that could see right through you, piercing into your soul. The intensity sent shivers down my spine. In those whiskey-coloured depths, I saw a mix of curiosity and desperation, a flicker of recognition that ignited a spark within me. The growl that echoed through the Gym was unmistakably Carter Benson, a primal sound that resonated deep within my Lycan.

I locked eyes with him, my mind racing to comprehend the sudden shift in his gaze. The intensity of his eyes sent a surge of electricity through my body; before I could stop it, my Lycan took over her; she looked back at him; she was lit, I was burning up, my body vibrating with an inexplicable desire. It was as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the two of us locked in a primal dance of attraction.

A woman's hand movement caught my eye, breaking the trance, and my wolf pulled back. I broke the intense stare. Finally, my vision cleared, my Lycan screamed betrayal, and she retreated. And I looked at the man, not the wolf. His rugged features are etched with a mixture of surprise and longing. His hands resting on the balcony balustrade clenched into fists, the muscles in his arms flexing as he struggled to regain control.