Amber Silverblood: Silverpack

Chapter Forty One

"Hey, Stark? Can I ask you a—"

My sentence was cut off when a big, red ball of latex came hurtling towards my face. I barely had time to gasp before it struck me, filling my vision with red and knocking me down on my butt.

"Sorry, Amber, did you say something?" my alpha asked, readjusting the boxing glove he'd just punched me with.

I sat there on the dry earth for a minute, my head spinning, before I was able to get up again. I put my feet under me, but still stumbled a couple times before I found my balance.

Crap, he hits hard, I thought, shaking my head to chase away the dizziness.

We were back in the circle Stark had cleared the snow out of, both of us dressed in jeans and sleeveless shirts. A pair of red boxing gloves covered Stark's fists, while mine were blue. We'd only been out here about a half hour, but my skin was already covered with sweat, which didn't feel good at all in the below-freezing weather.

"Yeah," I finally answered. "I need to ask you about—"

This time when he swung his fist out, I was able to see it coming, and I ducked beneath it.

"Will you quit doing that?" I demanded, face turning red when I stood back up.

"No," he answered, giving me a smug grin. "Any more questions?"

Before I could say anything, he aimed another barrage of punches at me. He'd gone over the basic rules of boxing when we'd first gotten here, but that wasn't nearly enough to prepare me for this. You ever heard the saying, "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee"? I'd never given it much thought, but now that I was fighting Stark it suddenly made sense. He carried himself with so much grace that it was almost like he was gliding over the dusty ground, and his punches were like bolts of lightning, coming out of nowhere and never striking in the same place twice. I had a werewolf's reflexes, so I was able to react to them faster than a human, but Stark had the speed of a wolf on his side as well. Basically, I was a toddler who'd wandered into the ring with an Olympic boxer, her gloves way too big for her tiny arms to lift... and that sadist of a boxer had no problem punching her right in her cute toddler face. Repeatedly.

Come on, I thought to myself, that isn't fair. He's not doing this to pick on you, he's trying to teach you how to fight!

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than did Stark pull his arm back and propel it straight into my gut with the force of a freaking jackhammer. All the air went flying out of my lungs, leaving me blue in the face, and I collapsed on my backside again.

"Come on, get up," Stark said, retreating back to my side again. "We're not going back until you land a punch on me."

"Give me a minute," I gasped, trying to catch my breath again. I slipped my hand out of one of the gloves and gingerly rubbed my stomach. Ooh, that one was going to leave a bruise. He wasn't holding back, not even a little. How was I supposed to learn to fight if he started off like this?

"I have to ask you something," I said, still sitting on the ground. It was getting easier to breathe again, but I was determined to get some kind of answer out of him while we were here. "I didn't want to ask you while we were still at the cabin, because, well, I don't want to worry Mom or Kimberly. So..."

"Tell you what," he interrupted me, finally lowering his fists. "If you can land a punch on me, I'll answer anything you want."

My eyes narrowed. This again? He knew I'd never be able to do it, otherwise he'd never make an offer like that. I sighed, but got back to my feet anyway. If he wasn't going to be nice about this, then I'd have to play by his rules.