Alpha Gray

7

Gray

Brock's walking into the barracks as I'm walking out, and I almost run right into him.

"How was patrol?" I ask as I dodge out of his way.

Brock runs a hand through his long wavy hair, leaning against the doorframe. "Quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary."

I nod. He looks whooped- and I'm reminded how glad I am that I don't have to run night patrols often. I only jump in when the threat levels are high, because my wolf gets all worked up in response and won't let me sleep anyways.

"How'd the recruits do?"

Brock smirks, like he knows why I asked the question. Sure, I knew Fallon was assigned to patrol with him, but that's not why I'm asking. I mean, not the only reason. I have to keep tabs on all of the trainees.

"They were fine." Brock's always short and to the point.

I nod again, then clap him on the shoulder and head out through the doors to the arena. I don't want to stick around and risk him giving me a hard time. I'm not even interested in her, anyways.

I know Fallon has been up all night, but I have half a mind to make her train this morning anyways, just because I can. I quickly think better of it, though. I'm not a sadist. I haven't yet finished punishing her for her disrespect, but I'll think of other ways.

Why does this female bug me so much? Honestly, I should just send her packing, and I might've, if I hadn't seen her spar yesterday. She's good; she shows a hell of a lot more promise than most of the other trainees. I keep trying to tell myself that's the only reason I haven't dismissed her from training camp.

Theo and Reid are already out in the arena, and I head in their direction. Since Jax and Brock were on patrol last night, it'll just be the three of us for morning session today.

"Gray," Reid greets me with a tip of his chin as I approach. I return the gesture, then greet Theo with a slap on the back.

"You guys ready for one-on-ones?" I ask, rubbing my palms together. A few days in, we always test the new trainees with what we call 'one-on-ones'. It's exactly what it sounds like- each of us square off to spar with a trainee, one-on-one. This method is the only way we can really test the recruits' fighting skills, because when they're paired up with one another, they could do well purely because they have a weaker partner. Employing this method, we can more accurately determine each trainee's skill level and assign sparring partners that are evenly matched.

I love the one-on-ones. I don't mind observing and giving orders, but I'd much rather fight than stand on the sidelines. It's just my nature. They help me brush up on my own skills, too, because when I'm running training camp for the recruits, I'm missing out on my regular training with the squad. I'm always trying to get better, stronger, faster. The leader of the shadow pack, Alpha Xavier, is one crazy sonofabitch. I've never seen anyone fight like him. I've been obsessively training for years because I vowed a long time ago that I'm going to be the one to finally end him someday.

The recruits start to spill out from the barracks into the arena, and the three of us watch as they hustle over, eager for instruction. The group is smaller this morning- about a third of them ran patrols last night- but they're all keyed up and raring to go.

I don't waste any time.

"Listen up, recruits!" I call out, and a silence falls over the gathered trainees. I glance back at Reid, and he nods, stepping forward.

"Yesterday, you all had the chance to show each other what you've got," Reid starts, resting his hands on his hips. "Today, you're going to show us."

A dull hum of confused chatter rises as the trainees look to one another, whispering.

Theo steps forward beside Reid and claps his hands together to get the recruits' attention. "Form three lines," he instructs, "and each of you will get the chance to spar with one of us." He waggles his eyebrows.

The trainees seem nervous at first, but they comply. Once they've formed three even lines, each of us takes one of them, beckoning the first volunteers forward. Not only is this exercise fun for us, but it's amusing for the other trainees- they get to see how their peers fare in a matchup against an alpha. The arena erupts with the sounds of whooping and cheering as the trainees watch the matchups, egging their fellow recruits on as they try to take the alphas down. Of course, none of them have a real shot at winning- we've got years of experience on them- but some of them perform much better than expected. I'm finding myself more and more impressed with this new class of recruits.

We make quick work of the first round of one-on-ones, then switch up the groupings and go again. It's exhausting, but exhilarating. I'm taking mental notes the whole time- which recruits are stronger, which are weaker, which have the most potential. The three of us will sit down later to make a list and put them each into categories, which we'll use for future training exercises and when we ultimately cull the ranks.

After several hours, I'm panting and sweating. My muscles burn, but it's a good kind of fire. I live for the adrenaline. I'm covered in grime- dirt clings to the sweat on my body and face. We break for lunch, but I decide to hit the showers instead. I navigate through the squad's barracks to the huge locker room that separates the barracks for the recruits and the squad members. The barracks for the squad are in stark contrast to those for the recruits- while the recruits sleep in a huge room full of bunks, the squad barracks are more like a dormitory. Squad members each have their own room, but the bathroom facilities are shared by recruits and squad members through the locker room.

As for the showers themselves, there's no privacy. A long wall along the back has about twenty shower heads, like a locker room in a school gym. There's no gender separation, either. Pack is pack, male or female, we're all equal. We live together, sleep together, shower together, fight together. That kind of setup might bother humans, but we wolves are so accustomed to nudity with our shifts that it doesn't bother us one bit. Even so, I'm relieved when I find the shower area empty. In a wolf pack, it's all about togetherness and it seems like there's always someone around... but sometimes I just need to be alone with my thoughts.

I undress and throw my t-shirt and gym shorts onto a bench, then step beside a showerhead and twist the faucet. It takes a couple minutes to heat up before I move my body underneath the stream and allow the hot spray to hit my neck and shoulders. I press my eyes closed for a few minutes while the water washes over me, carrying the dirt and grime down the drain.

I wash up, still making mental notes about the recruits' performance during one-on-ones. As I wash away the dried blood on my arm, I remember how one recruit- Davis- was able to get the jump on me the second time we sparred. I got pretty bad road rash on my arm from the way I landed, but the skin has already knitted itself back together and healed. Once I wash the blood away, you can't even tell where it came from. Gotta love shifter healing.

After my shower, I towel off, then wrap the towel around my waist and tuck the corner in so it'll stay. Even though I seldom stay overnight here at the squad complex, I've got a room in the barracks. I'll have to head there to grab a change of clothes. I slick my wet hair back with a hand and reach to collect my grimy clothes when I'm startled by the sound of the locker room door opening and closing.

Even before I look up, I know it's her. Her sweet scent hits my nose and I jerk my head up to see her standing in the doorway in nothing but a fluffy white towel, looking like a fucking angel. Fallon.