8 - Greta


    There was something about this guy that just got under my skin, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. Day after day, I found myself watching him spar, even though he didn''t seem to bring anything new or refined to the pack. He showed upte, ignored the rules, andpletely disregarded the protocols I had painstakingly set in ce. Yet, despite all that, he kept winning—taking down some of the best fighters I had trained. That made it impossible to discipline him, no matter how much I wanted to.


    "Do it again," I called out, trying to sound disinterested, but inside I was curious. I wanted to see if today would be the day I finally broke him. "Try to execute the moves properly this time, Rookie."


    "If I''m winning, does perfect execution really matter, ma''am?” he shot back, eyes locked on Bobby, his current opponent.


    "Only if you''re too much of a coward to do it right,” I snapped. "I''m guessing you''re just making up for ack of other skills." That got his attention. I nodded sharply to Bobby, who lunged at Finn''s exposed side.


    They both rolled expertly, but Finn''s reflexes were on another level. The problem was, his fighting style was rough and unpolished at best, though his stamina was off the charts. It was obvious these rogues were self-taught, using whatever moves they picked up along the way. I had managed to break many bad habits in others, but for some reason, this rookie clung to his like they were lifelines.


    “No! Again! Jameson, you''re up,” I shouted to a warrior waiting on the sidelines.


    "You''ve got to be kidding me," Jameson groaned, throwing his hands up before resting them on his hips.


    He was a sight-covered in sweat and dirt, his sandy blonde hair falling loose from his ponytail. He''d taken his shirt off a while ago, and his shorts hung low, dangerously close to slipping off. I mentally pped myself for the third time in ten minutes. He was incredibly distracting, but I couldn''t afford to think about that. He''d been mated to the enemy, stolen our luna, attacked our pack, and couldn''t follow simple instructions to save his life. He was a liability, and I didn''t trust him to work well with a team. The only reason he was still here was because Kennedy had basically imed him as Be''s second. That was another thing I didn''t understand. Be was getting closer to the rookie as a favor to Kennedy, but I knew Be was still haunted by that capture. She had been right beside him—no one should have gotten that close. But that was in the past; there was no changing it now.


    Taking a deep breath, I tried to summon the calm, authoritative voice I used when teaching pups. "I''ll pair you up with as many fighters as it takes until you fall in line. Just do the move right, and you''re done. It''s a simple release technique. Do it properly, and you''re free to go." I spread my hands in a ''what are you gonna do'' gesture.


    He brushed off the dirt casually and gave me a look through hisshes that made me want to look away. He knew exactly what he was doing-he''d caught me staring, and it annoyed me. “Like I said before, if I''m getting out of the holds and winning my matches, why does it matter if I release exactly how you taught me? A win''s a win.” He shrugged, standing tall, his broad chest puffing out.


    "Do. It. Again. Rookie." I stepped closer, curling my lip in challenge.


    “Make me, ma''am," he said, closing the distance between us. His arms crossed


    over his massive chest, leaving barely an inch between us.


    I opened my mouth to scold him for his insubordination when Josh''s voice cut


    through the tension. “GRETA. FINN! Your stare down''s gonna have to wait. Let''s go. The Alpha wants to see you both in his office."