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The impact sent me reeling. If this had been combat, maybe I would’ve held it together, but it wasn’t. She was a stupid girl who had no idea what it felt like to have your balls jammed into your spleen.

I managed to sit up and concentrated on deep breaths.

Shit …

“I’m sorry,” she kept repeating.

As if that made it feel better.

“I’m fine,” I managed, gritting my teeth so my voice wouldn’t come out a squeak. Could kidneys ache?

“Are you sure? I couldn’t think of another way to avoid your fist.”

That got my attention. I looked up at her. “You saw that?”

“Your hand coming up? Yeah, why?”

Very slowly, I got to my feet, breathing deeply. When I was sure I wouldn’t crumple, I spoke. “I can’t fault you for doing whatever you could to win. And your instincts and awareness under pressure are good if you saw my hand coming up. Most people wouldn’t have from that angle. From now on, a hit like that is off limits. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said quickly.

I almost skipped the run thanks to my internal injuries but her pace was slow enough.

I answered her questions distractedly, my mind already working out the next phase of training, calculating how often I’d need with her to get her into shape. If we worked hard, by June, she’d pass freshman defense. Maybe.

In answer to her question—one of many—I explained to her what a strike team did.

“So, you just go in and kill them all?” she asked. The shock in her voice got my attention and I looked over. The space beside me was empty. I glanced back and found her standing there, her hands on her hips, glaring at me. I walked back to where she stood.

“If we determine they are a threat, yes, we kill them. If we find they are aligned with your little Cause group, then we leave them alone. If they are peaceable, we can’t touch them.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

Bitterness rose up in me, coating my throat. “The concept of peace is not possible for a Werewolf. It never was and it never will be. They were born monsters. We were born to eradicate them.”

“You can’t be born a monster,” she said. “Monsters are made through outside influences in their environment. By definition, you could be labeled a monster for hating someone because of their DNA.”

My hands balled into fists. Why did this girl get to me so easily? I couldn’t think straight with her mouth set that way. She was gorgeous when she was angry. “You really believe that?”

“You’re relieved of your trainer duties,” she said in answer. “I’ll speak with Headmaster and find someone else. I can only hope that all Hunters aren’t as prejudiced and close-minded as you are.” She shoved me aside and stormed off.

My shoulder tingled where she touched me. It boiled my veins. I was angry at her for judging me—and furious with myself that I didn’t hate her for it.

I ran to catch up to her and yanked her around to face me.

“What?” she snapped.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out. You think you’ve got all of us all figured out. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I could say the same about you,” she shot back. “You think I don’t see the disgust when you look at me?”

Disgust? Is that what she thought? “We all have our reasons,” I said, unwilling to correct her. “This is what we were born to do.”

“That may be true, for you. I’m not so sure I fit into that mold. Either way, we definitely shouldn’t be working together. How can you possibly trust me, knowing that I’m half-monster? That must bother you.”

I thought back to that first time I’d seen her, in the warehouse fight with Leo’s goons. The light had been slanted and dim, mostly shadows, but even then I’d been struck by her.

I shook the images away. I couldn’t say that to her. Not now. Instead, I said, “it’s not the same. I won’t be going into battle with you.”