Page 91 of Anomalies

“You can throw a damn good punch.” He grabs my hand, inspecting the cuts, then skates across the raw skin with his thumb. “But ration them, your hands are your greatest weapon, we can’t have them broken and bleeding. Let out that fury with your knees, your elbows, your feet….and save your fists for special occasions.” Callan looks past me to where the peanut gallery resides. “And the two of you will be punching bags. You will be whatever she needs.”

Pax and Hunter exchange an uneasy glance, then nod.

“What about illusions and light manipulations?” I ask. “Delia wants to see both at the next meeting.” The meeting he’ll most likely miss.

Callan releases my hand and pushes up the sleeves of his black undershirt. “Hunter will help you master illusions; he’s arguably one of the best in our coven. Pax is going to get you started on light manipulation, and I’ll be back before you know it. If I can make the next meeting, Cin, I will.”

But I don’t want him to leave at all. I don’t want to worry about when and if he’ll come back. I don’t want to just sit here and wonder and wait and fear the worst, not now…because now… I care.

I care enough to consider begging him to stay, and that’s way too pathetic for me to admit out loud.

Callan is…tenacious—constantly pushing me to limits I didn’t know I had. On the most brutal nights, I’ve seriously considered trying to kill him. I’ve considered it more times than I can count. But it feels easier to breathe when he’s here...I can’t explain it.

I wriggle my fingers, stretching out the aching joints.

“While I’m gone, make this second nature. Make it as easy as breathing or pulling magic to the surface. I want you to know every different way someone can grab you, then I want you to know your way out of it. Become attuned, anticipate, trust the feelings you get in your gut, and never hesitate. Promise me you’ll never hesitate, Chaos.”

“Worried about me?” I taunt, propping both hands on my hips.

“More than you know.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling is painfully…” I take a deep breath, my exhale more like a sigh, “mutual.”

It’s true. I’ll be worried the second he leaves, even though I’ll pretend not to be. I’ll pretend until it becomes real, that way…if he never comes back, it won’t hurt as bad. I hope.

Callan glances once at Pax and Hunter, checking to see if they’re listening. They’re not. “It is?” he asks woefully, and I scowl.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Impossible.” Callan winks, and he’s still smiling when he nods to Pax. “Alright, you’re up.”

“Mothers save me,” Pax grumbles as he stalks towards us and I move to meet him in the center of the ring.

“Don’t go easy on me,” I tell him, and he glances nervously at the Captain. “I’ll never learn if you go easy on me.” I bunch my hair together and fasten it with a tie around my wrist. “Hit me.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Callan warns when Pax raises his fists.

“If he kills me, Cin,” Pax mutters, “it’s your fault.”

Then he swings.

His fist connects with the top of my shoulder, but it was definitely intended for my face. Thankfully, I’m only knocked back a few steps.

“Are you fucking with me?!” Callan shouts, and Pax glares at me even as he throws his next punch.

“Go stand with Hunter if you can’t be quiet,” I snap, ducking under the hit and throwing my own, but he dodges it with efficient speed.

“She’s gotta learn Cal.” Pax grunts when I jab him in the ribs, hard enough that he doubles over, cursing as he quickly rights himself. “Chiaros, Cin, you weigh like a hundred pounds how the fuck⁠—”

I hit him again, a quick punch to his jaw, and he stumbles backwards.

“Remember what I said about your hands, Cin,” Callan warns, his voice tight and agitated.

“Special occasion,” I grit out, shaking out my knuckles as fire dances up and down the small bones there. Then I’m moving again. “Are you the teacher or the student, Pax?” I taunt, and he smiles. “Oh shit⁠—”

He hits my collarbone, and I’m sent sprawling across the dirt. For a moment, everything spins, my fingers flexing as I pull myself up on my hands and knees.

“Fuck!” Pax curses, running over to help while Callan throws out death threats like it’s small talk, barreling across the ring like a raging bull.