Page 45 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

“I bet you did,” Felix said, and something in his tone made my stomach flip.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Felix laughed, and the sound washed over me like a warm wave. His whole face lit up when he laughed properly, not the nervous chuckle he usually gave but something genuine and warm. God, he looked so bloody cute standing there in those ridiculous pink Lycras, hair messed up and cheeks flushed.

“Nothing, just… you’re exactly the type who would’ve been captain of everything, aren’t you?”

I scratched at my neck. “I guess I hated my home life so much, I stayed at school for as many after-school clubs as possible. Though eventually, Da put a stop to it. Said I was spending too much time with my human friends, spending too much time away from pack duties. Said Rory needed a better example of what it meant to be a Thorne.”

Felix’s expression softened, curiosity replacing the teasing glint in his eyes. “Rory talks about it a lot,” he said, almost shyly. “Your childhood, in Scotland. It sounds like it was really tough.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, not wanting to dive into the mess that was my childhood. I didn’t like talking about that, at all. “Enough talk. You’re just trying to distract me so you don’t have to exercise.”

Felix’s mouth dropped open in mock outrage. “I would never!”

“Liar.” I grinned at him. “Ten push-ups. You know what those are, surely?”

Felix groaned but dropped to the floor without arguing. He positioned himself on his hands and knees, then lowered himself down.

This was a mistake. Because I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his pert little ass as he struggled through what might generously be called push-ups. The pink Lycra clung to every curve, and my wolf purred with satisfaction at the view.

Focus on his form. His terrible, terrible form.

Felix’s arms shook as he managed maybe three proper repetitions before collapsing onto the mat, breathing hard.

“You know what, we’ll just get to it,” I said, my voice coming out awfully raspy. “We’ll have to stop for lunch soon anyway. Maybe we’ll start at ten thirty next time.”

More time with him would be good.

More time to train him.

For his own good.

“First, I need a baseline assessment of your skills.” I moved closer to him as he climbed back to his feet. “I want you to fight me off with all your strength.”

Felix looked dubious, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Fight you off?”

“Just go for it. Pretend I’m attacking you.”

I moved towards him, and Felix immediately scrambled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. Perfect. Exactly what I’d expected.

I advanced again, this time committing to the movement. Felix threw his hands up defensively, but I easily swept his legs, controlled his fall with a grip on his wrist, and had him pinned beneath me within seconds. Standard takedown, textbook execution. His breathing was rapid against my chest as he writhed about, and my wolf sang with joy at having our mate underneath us.

Aye, this is exactly what you’ve always wanted, you sick bastard.

“I yield!” Felix shouted, his voice slightly panicked. “I yield, or whatever!”

I scrambled off him, heart hammering, and retreated several steps.

“Yeah, we definitely should have taught you some basic self-defence years ago.”

I stepped forward and offered Felix my hand. He hesitated before taking it, and I pulled him to his feet in one smooth motion. He was lighter than I’d expected, and for a moment—one tiny moment—we stood too close together, his fingers still wrapped around mine.

Felix jerked his hand away and stepped back, scowling as he smoothed down his T-shirt, cheeks flushed.

I stepped towards him again. “Punch me as hard as you can.”

Felix’s pathetic little punch barely registered against my chest.