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Tegan’s attention snapped to her cousin. “Who said anything about a wheel?”
“Ugh, okay, that was a terrible analogy for you.” Sloane looked to Marcus for assistance. “C’mon, Marcus, Jedimind trick her.”
“You have to stop watching so much television,” Marcus mumbled. “If you put as much energy into your own training as you do watching soap operas, you’d be a better student.”
“You cannot, cannotcallStar Warsa soap opera,” Sloane protested.
“It kinda is,” Jax mused. He was sitting beside Briony and Gable. Along with Kallie, the four of them had watched over and protected Zahra when she was at the human school, and now along with their normal Sentinel training, they were being given extra lessons with Tegan. “It’s often referred to as a space opera.”
Sloane looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, they even have written articles on it and—”
“If we could get back to the training lesson,” Marcus interrupted them both. Jax dipped his head down at the reprimand as Sloane merely shrugged it off.
“And the wheel thing?” Tegan reminded Marcus curiously.
He glanced at her once in consternation before he shook his head. “Ignore the wheelthing. You,” he said, pointing to Michael, “take the position you were in before Tegan subdued you.” He turned to Tegan. “Talk him through it,” he instructed.
He watched the two Heirs, and several moments later, Michael was once again on the floor and Tegan had his arms pinned behind his back, her knee firmly pressing him to the mat.She really did try to tell him,Marcus thought to himself as he took in the scene. Michael was on the ground, grumbling about how she was a terrible teacher, Sloane was laughing openly at them both, Tegan was frowning down at the back of her brother’s head as if she were surprised he was in the position, and the three trainees were providing a running commentary on where Michael went wrong. Marcus felt a pang of longing for the solitude of the woods, and his wolf shifted restlessly within him.
“Marcus?” Michael’s call brought him back to himself.
“Tegan, you were supposed to be on the ground in the hold,” Marcus reminded her as he walked over to them.
“I don’t understand how I’m not,” she admitted in confusion. “I talked him through it,” she added slightly defensively as she looked up at the Lycan.
Marcus nodded in agreement. “You did, Elite, but your actions didn’t follow your words, so while you were saying, ‘Then bring your arm down here,’” Marcus told her as he demonstrated, “your own arm was in the position Michael’s should have been. Let’s try another way.”
Tegan rose off of her prone brother and stood while Michael rose fluidly to his feet. “It’s instinct,” he assured his sister as she looked at him guiltily. “Your instinct is to act first, talk later.”
“Tegan, with me,” Marcus instructed as he joined them on the mats. “Michael, watch.”
Marcus adopted a fighting stance, and with acome heregesture, he motioned Tegan towards him. His wolf rumbled in satisfaction as he and Tegan sparred. He had trained with the young Elite several times, and they were always fiercely contested. Even now, as he was supposed to be demonstrating a break of hold, he found himself taking longer to get Tegan in hold. Tegan grinned at him as she dropped low, her leg swinging out and catching the Lycan’s feet, knocking him to the ground.
Marcus was a Lycan though, and simple Sentinel tricks were well-known to him. He was back on his feet within seconds, and dipping low, he caught Tegan’s arm as she extended it in a blow. Smoothly he twisted her around, almost like the lead in a dance as he pulled her towards him. Tegan’s other arm was already reaching behind her as she stretched up and caught the back of the Lycan’s head, and with a sharp pull, bending low, she threw the Lycan over her shoulder. Marcus landed on the mat and rolled swiftly to the right as Tegan brought her knee down to land on his body.
Tegan’s eyes shone with excitement; she loved fighting against the Lycan. He had been trained by her father, and it was almost like she was fighting against him. A momentary pang of sadness almost overwhelmed her, but she was still aware enough to dodge Marcus’s blow. However, her lapse in concentration cost her, and she was too slow to avoid his catch. She found herself on the mat, much as her brother had been earlier with her, and as her peers started to cheer for Marcus, Tegan brought her leg up sharply, her foot striking the Lycan between the shoulder blades even as her head jerked backwards to strike at her captor behind her. It caused a tiny adjustment on Marcus’s hold, but it was enough for the Elite Sentinel to shift her weight onto her hips. Using her core strength, Tegan braced herself and twisted in the hold.
It hurt, she had never not endured the pain as she manoeuvred fluidly from the hold, and with a final kick out catching the Lycan in the face, causing Marcus to lose his balance, she rose and stood breathlessly above him.
“By the Ancients,” Sloane murmured as he took in his cousin’s appearance. Blood trailed slowly down her cheek from a scratch. She was out of breath and obviously in pain, but still her form was steady and her fists raised, ready to defend…or in Tegan’s case, probably attack.
“At ease, Elite,” Marcus said as he rose. “I have not missed the pain of that hold being broken.” He looked over at Tegan and saw her posture relax slightly. “I am done,” he told her again and saw her shoulders lower a little more.
“Now I see how I could not break it,” Michael said as he handed his sister a towel for her face. “I wasn’t willing to risk the injury,” he added as he contemplated his own actions when in the hold previously,or lack of action, he berated himself internally.
“If you are ever caught in that hold, you will be killed if you are not willing to risk it all,” Tegan answered solemnly. “Every hold, every pin, everycapture, you must fight as if it were your last.”
“Your father was a harsh teacher,” Gable said from where he sat.
Tegan spun angrily to look at him. “Is,heisa harsh teacher. That wretched Castor will bring him back to me.”
“Of course, Elite Sentinel Tegan, my apologies.” Gable dipped his head in respect, but Tegan continued to glare at his bowed head.
“Tegan, let’s go eat,” Sloane suggested, his voice still light and carefree. “Then when you’ve regained some energy, you can come back and remind me how woefully inadequate I am in combat against you.”
Tegan looked over at him speculatively. “Hand to hand?”
