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“I planned a formal training routine for you,” Hunter says, showing me to a corner with punching bags. “We can start tomorrow.”
I glance around the room, watching alphas watching me. Not stalkery yet, but I’m in no place to relax. “And if they come after me?”
“Won’t happen. Everyone here’s a full agent. Remember the team that came at you when you visited the training center?”
“Vaguely.”
“They’re still on punishment.”
“When are the dads getting their punishment?” When are the rest of you?
Hunter’s easy smile hardens. “Been thinking about that.”
“Invite me to the beating. Better yet, train me so I can beat you all myself.”
“Nothing would make me happier. Want to practice a few moves?”
“Sure.” I always feel better when I can move, and I’m at least sure the guys won’t let anyone screw with me while they’re here.
Plus, I have knives in my bathing suit.
Hunter walks me through some easy punches and ways to break grabs. When I can easily throw off his hand on my shoulder, flipping him onto the mats, I tag off to grab water while Finn and Orion rotate into the mix.
It’s insanely fun watching them trade punches. Finn and Orion are just as fast as Hunter. I tag back in, and with their long reaches, I have to work to stay out of their hands.
It’s less fun when a sweat-drenched Hunter strips off his T-shirt, hitting me with a face full of salty sweet mezcal and wicked tattoos.
I’ve been sweating, but now I sweat pheromone bullets.
Orion and Finn’s scents, plus all the other alphas’ wrap around me and my blood starts to simmer.
Hotter and hotter.
Shit.
Shit.
“Lilah,” Orion’s whisper comes out hoarse. “You’re spiking.”
“No I’m not,” I yelp, tearing away from his hands and arms and eyes.
“Please don’t lie.” He clutches his chest. “Tell us when you need us and we’ll never let you down again.”
“I just need to swim.”
“Lilah. I can help—”
“I have it under control.”
That’s what I tell myself as I fall back into my favorite habit, running the fuck away from the trio of males who crawl inside my brain like poison.
I need to swim.
Run.
Dance.
Scream into a jar.
