Lazarus

Chapter 37

"You only have like three games on here."

"Yeah, I don't normally play games on the phone."

"Boring."

I raised an eyebrow at Margaret before taking my phone back, "Don't you have your own phone?"

"Yes, but I'm bored of it. Wanted to see if you had any inspiring game ideas," she explained.

"Go on the app store and look at random ones."

"Nah, I'll stick with fruit ninja."

"Are you...nevermind, you're a child."

"At least I'm not old and boring."

Grabbing one of the small pillows on my bed, I threw it at her, causing us both to laugh. The door flung open with Alex bounding in while holding three plates of food. I raised an eyebrow at the amount on there, wondering if my stomach would even be able to hold all of it. Placing them down on my bed, she plopped on the other side and grabbed hers.

"If you don't finish anything, I'll eat it," she mumbled while shoving a cheese stick in her mouth.

I chuckled, "Hungry?"

"Starving. I was training all morning and forgot to eat. Marge, when do you train today?"

"Not until five, I'd rather the mornings though," Margaret sighed dramatically.

I frowned, "You train with me though."

"This is true...I guess I can deal then."

"You're going to beat her ass, right?" Alex asked, smirking.

Grinning, I nodded, "Of course."

"Can't you two be nice to me?" Margaret whined as we laughed.

~*~*~

"Margaret, you need to move a bit faster," Azrael voiced, watching as we sparred.

Margaret's eyes were clouded over with frustration as she lunged forwards, almost clawing my chest before I had the chance to step away. I watched each movement carefully, anticipating where she would strike next, remembering everything my father had taught me. As she swung once more, aiming to punch me in the head, I dodged easily and landed my own hit on her ribcage. Wincing, she stumbled backwards a bit.

"Damn, you hit hard," she coughed, rubbing her side.

I chuckled, "It's how I was taught. Strike as hard as you can to knock your enemy down."

"That's how they fight too," Azrael voiced. "The warriors from your parents' pack."

Nodding, I stood up straight, "We barely fight defensively, we're always fighting offensively to land as many hits as we can. Not always good though, you'll find out all they know how to do is dodge. They can't block hits."

"Do you know how to block a hit?"

"Yes, my dad taught me against my mother's wishes. He told me it's just important to know. It's the reason I excelled in training there and defeated every warrior. My father was the hardest to beat."

Azrael nodded, "We're going to focus on defensive hits then, tire them out."

"Wonderful," Margaret said sarcastically, giving me an exhausted look.

Getting into stance again, she came forwards as I continually showed her defensive moves. We continued for a few hours until we were both soaked in sweat and our muscles were begging us to end training for today. Seemingly satisfied with Margaret's improvement, Azrael called it quits, telling us we to go and shower. Turning around I froze when I saw Lazarus leaning against one of the columns connecting the porch and roof, his ice blue eyes trained on me. Margaret gently nudged me and winked before bounding up the stairs, saying hi to him and disappearing into the house.

"Are you supposed to be out of the hospital?" Azrael asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Lazarus shrugged, "I got bored."

"You're still healing," I scolded.

Those heart stopping eyes looked at me again, causing my heart to skip a beat as I attempted to control my composure. "I can heal while walking around."

I raised an eyebrow as he gave me a stubborn look, this man is going to be like dealing with a child, isn't he? Glancing at the small amount of bandaging showing from his shirt, the guilt began to slowly crawl back. I know it isn't my fault, I know I'm not the one who tricked him, but it was still my old pack that had attacked.

"You know, a picture would last longer."

I snapped my eyes up to his, feeling my face flush as I attempted to form an excuse. Opening my mouth and closing it like a fish, unable to form any words before deciding to settle with dramatically walking away. I quietly scolded myself for allowing him to get to me, for allowing my emotions to take control instead of being the smart mouthed girl that I am. I let out a sigh as I reached my room, wondering if I should just try to be cold again.

No, that's a foolish decision.

If I were to give him the cold shoulder for no reason and act like a brat, it'll only make both of our lives difficult. It would hurt for me to do that to him, especially now that I care deeply for him. It would also make working together almost impossible, risking us being on different pages if we do plan to attack my mother's pack. Running a hand through my hair, I collapsed onto my bed and glared at the ceiling.

Why is it so difficult for me to be me?