His Broken Luna: The Omega He Discarded

CHAPTER 2: MORNING TRAINING

I'm at the gym by 4:55 AM, earlier than usual because nerves won't let me sleep. The building is dark except for the emergency lights, casting everything in an eerie red glow. I unlock the door with the key Delta Kyle gave me months ago and flip on the overhead lights.

The fluorescent bulbs flicker to life with a harsh buzz. I drop my bag by the door and start stretching, trying to calm the anxious energy thrumming through my veins. What if Sierra doesn't show? What if this is some elaborate prank orchestrated by Kaley?

The door opens at exactly five o'clock.

Sierra walks in wearing simple black training gear, her hair pulled back in a tight braid. She looks around the gym with an appraising eye before her gaze lands on me.

"You're early," she says.

"So are you."

She grins. "I hate being late. Ready to get started?"

I nod, not trusting my voice. This still feels surreal.

"Good. Let's warm up together, then we'll spar." Sierra drops her bag and joins me on the mat. "So, how long have you been training here alone?"

"About a year." I move into a lunge stretch. "Since Delta Kyle gave me access."

"He mentioned you're one of the best students he's ever seen. Said you pick up techniques faster than wolves twice your age." Sierra mirrors my stretch on the other side. "Why keep it secret?"

The question catches me off guard. I've never had to explain it before.

"Because being good at something just gives people more ammunition," I say quietly. "If nobody knows what I can do, they can't use it against me."

Sierra stops stretching and looks at me. Really looks at me. "That's the saddest thing I've heard in a long time."

Heat crawls up my neck. "It's just easier this way."

"Easier for who? Them or you?" She stands, offering me her hand. "Come on. Let's see what you've got."

We move to the sparring ring in the corner. The mat is worn but clean, the ropes slightly frayed from years of use. I've spent countless hours here, fighting invisible opponents, perfecting moves with no one watching.

Now someone's watching. Now it matters.

"Standard rules," Sierra says, rolling her shoulders. "First to three takedowns wins. No wolf strength, just skill. Sound fair?"

"Fair."

We bow to each other, then fall into fighting stances. For a moment, neither of us moves. We circle each other slowly, assessing, waiting.

Sierra strikes first, a quick jab toward my face that I block easily. She follows with a leg sweep that I jump over, countering with a palm strike she deflects.

We break apart, circling again.

"Not bad," she says, a smile playing at her lips. "Let's pick up the pace."

This time when she comes at me, it's a flurry of strikes. Punches, elbows, knees, all thrown with precision and control. I block, dodge, parry, my body moving on instinct. The self-consciousness fades away. This is what I'm good at. This is where I belong.

I catch her wrist mid-punch and use her momentum to throw her over my hip. She hits the mat hard but rolls immediately back to her feet.

"One," I say, breathing hard.

Sierra's grin widens. "Lucky shot. Let's go again."

The second round is more intense. Sierra fights differently now, respecting my skill level. She's faster, more aggressive. When she sweeps my legs out from under me and pins me to the mat, I'm almost relieved. At least she's not holding back.

"One all," she says, offering me a hand up.

We're both sweating now, breathing hard. The third round is brutal. We trade blows evenly until Sierra catches me with a feint I should've seen coming. I hit the mat for the second time.

"That's two," she pants. "Match point."

I climb to my feet, wiping sweat from my eyes. My muscles burn in the best way possible. When was the last time I got to really push myself like this?

The final round is everything I've got. We move around the ring like dancers, each strike and block flowing into the next. I can feel myself smiling, actually smiling, because this is fun. This is what training should feel like.

When I finally catch Sierra in an arm lock and take her to the mat for the third time, we're both laughing.

"Okay, okay, I yield!" Sierra taps out, still grinning. "Two to three. You win."

We collapse on the mat, both of us gasping for air.

"You're really good," Sierra says after a moment. "Like, scary good. Delta Kyle wasn't exaggerating."

"You're not so bad yourself." I stare up at the ceiling, my heart still racing. "Thanks for not going easy on me."

"Why would I do that?" Sierra sits up, pulling her water bottle from her bag. "You want to get stronger, right? You can't do that if people coddle you."

The gym door opens before I can respond. My stomach drops when I see who walks in.

Cameron, Dakota, Sam, Oliver, and my brother Mateo all file into the gym in their training clothes. They freeze when they see us on the mat, clearly not expecting anyone to be here this early.

"Skylar?" Mateo's voice is sharp with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

I scramble to my feet, suddenly acutely aware of how I must look. Sweaty, disheveled, obviously in the middle of serious training.

"Just working out," I mutter.

"With the new girl?" Dakota's eyebrows rise. She's the female Alpha twin, and her stare could cut glass. "Interesting."

Sierra stands slowly, projecting calm confidence. "We were just finishing up. The gym's all yours."

She starts gathering her things, and I move to do the same, desperate to escape before this gets worse.

"Wait," Cameron says. "Skylar, can I talk to you for a second?"

Everyone goes quiet. My brother's face darkens. "Cameron, we need to start training."

"It'll just take a minute." Cameron's not asking permission. His Alpha authority, still developing but definitely present, makes even Mateo back down.

Sierra catches my eye, a question in her gaze. I give her a tiny nod. She leaves, but not before squeezing my shoulder in a gesture of support that makes my chest tight.

Once she's gone, Cameron walks over to me. The others hang back, pretending not to listen while obviously listening.

"You train here every morning?" he asks quietly.

"Most mornings." I clutch my water bottle like a lifeline. "Delta Kyle gave me permission."

"I know. I checked with him after I saw you on the surveillance footage." Cameron runs a hand through his dark hair. "Why didn't you ever join the official training sessions?"

Because your girlfriend and her friends would make my life hell. Because my brother made it clear I wasn't welcome. Because nobody wants the Beta's failure of a daughter on their team.

"I prefer training alone," I say instead.

"Clearly not that alone." There's something in his voice I can't identify. "Sierra's good. Where'd she learn to fight like that?"

"I don't know. We just met yesterday."

Cameron studies me for a long moment. "You're better than her. That takedown in the third round? I've only seen Delta Kyle pull that off."

Heat floods my face. "You were watching?"

"The cameras feed to my phone. Security protocols." He shrugs, but there's an intensity in his gaze that makes me nervous. "You should compete in the pack trials next month."

I nearly drop my water bottle. The pack trials are where warriors prove their worth, where rankings are established. It's public, competitive, and the last place I'd ever want to be.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I—" I what? Because I'm scared? Because my father would be furious? Because Kaley would torture me for weeks? All of those reasons sound pathetic out loud. "I just can't."

"Skylar." My brother's voice cuts across the gym. "Stop wasting the future Alpha's time. We have actual training to do."

The dismissal in his tone stings, even though I should be used to it by now.

Cameron's jaw tightens. "I'm not done talking to her."

"Well, I am." Mateo stalks over, grabbing my arm roughly. "Go home, Skylar. You're not supposed to be here anyway."

"Delta Kyle gave her permission," Cameron says, his voice dropping into Alpha command. "Let her go."

Mateo's hand drops from my arm like I've burned him. He steps back, face flushed with anger and embarrassment at being commanded by Cameron.

"This is exactly why she shouldn't be here," Mateo says through gritted teeth. "She causes problems."

"The only problem I see is you putting your hands on your sister." Dakota appears at Cameron's side, her expression cold. "Back off, Mateo."

The tension in the gym is suffocating. Sam and Oliver look uncomfortable, not sure whose side to take. My brother looks like he wants to hit something, preferably me.

"I'm leaving," I say quickly, grabbing my bag. "Sorry for the interruption."

I practically run for the door, my face burning with humiliation. Behind me, I hear Cameron call my name, but I don't stop. I can't stop. If I stop, I'll either cry or scream, and both options are equally unacceptable.

The cool morning air hits my face as I burst outside. I make it halfway across the parking lot before someone catches my wrist.

"Skylar, wait."

I spin around to find Cameron standing there, having followed me out. He's not even wearing a jacket despite the cold.

"I'm sorry about Mateo," he says. "He shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

"It's fine. He's right anyway. I shouldn't have been there." I try to pull my wrist free, but his grip is gentle but firm.

"Stop apologizing for existing." There's frustration in his voice now. "You have every right to use the pack gym. More right than most, actually, considering your skill level."

"My skill level doesn't matter if nobody knows about it."

"Then let them know about it." He steps closer, and I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. When did he get so tall? "Compete in the trials. Show everyone what you can do."

"Why do you care?"

The question hangs between us. Cameron's expression shifts to something I can't quite read.

"Because talent like yours shouldn't be wasted hiding in the shadows," he says finally. "And because I—" He stops, seeming to reconsider his words. "Just think about it, okay?"

He releases my wrist and heads back toward the gym, leaving me standing in the parking lot with more questions than answers.

What the hell just happened?

I'm still processing when my phone buzzes with a text from Sierra: "Coffee after school? We need to talk strategy."

Strategy for what, I want to ask, but another text comes through before I can respond.

This one's from an unknown number: "Stay away from Cameron. This is your only warning."

My blood runs cold. I don't need to ask who sent it. Kaley has made it very clear that she considers Cameron her territory, even though they're not officially together.

I delete the message and shove my phone in my pocket, but the damage is done. The brief spark of hope I felt this morning flickers and dims.

Nothing good ever comes from standing out. I should've remembered that.

But as I walk home through the quiet pre-dawn streets, I can't stop thinking about Sierra's fierce grin during our sparring match, or the way Cameron looked at me like I was someone worth defending.

Maybe, just maybe, hiding isn't the only option anymore.

The thought terrifies and exhilarates me in equal measure.