CHAPTER 7
987 Words
SAGE POV.
The next morning, I was awakened by a loud noise from the hallway. I turned to the other side of the room, and Roman was gone. The endless noise and footsteps from the hallway made me curious, so I stumbled out of bed and opened the door. I instantly wished I had just stayed curious.
There were half dressed boys everywhere and a few naked butts, some with towels slung over their hips, others dripping wet with steam rising off their skin. The corridor was filled with scented soap, cologne, and the sound of running water and laughter.
I blinked, frozen in place. My gaze darted to the open bathroom door across the hall. Boys were going in and coming out, all tying the same type of towel around their waists. It was too thin for my liking, so I saw the outline of something dangling between their legs that made me traumatized, and I would definitely never be speaking of this moment or thinking of it.
I slammed the door shut and backed away like I had just witnessed a crime. The boys shared a bathroom; I hadn’t thought that far. I had prepared for patrol shifts, even for physical training with brutes twice my size, but who would have thought the boys all shared a bathroom?
“Okay, okay, okay,” I muttered, pacing. “It’s fine. You can handle this. You are not about to pass out because twenty shirtless boys just ran past you.”
But my mind was spiraling. How was I supposed to shower? Change? Survive in there without getting caught?
The door creaked up, and I froze.
Roman walked in, hair wet and slicked back, droplets gliding down his bare chest. A white towel hung very low on his tattooed hips. His abs flexed as he moved, muscles coiling like they had a mind. His skin glistened, catching the morning light from the window behind him.
I snapped my gaze up, focusing on his face, not his super sexy abs and definitely not on that little drop of water sliding down his neck.
If my wolf had her way, I would have been on the floor kissing those beautiful pink lips of his.
Stop it; I mentally smacked myself for thinking such impure thoughts. If I were back home, I would have gone to the temple and prayed to the moon goddess to forgive me for my unholy thoughts.
Roman frowned. “Can’t you hear me, little man?”
“Uh… sorry,” I stammered.
I cleared my throat and dropped my voice an octave. “What did you say?”
He raised a brow. “Bathroom’s going to be packed in ten. Go now before they start spraying each other with soap again.”
I blinked. “Spraying each other?”
“Don’t ask,” he muttered. “Just go.”
He stared at me, his arms now crossed around his shirtless body, threatening my sanity and luring me into temptation.
“Why are you just standing there?” he asked.
“Oh. Right. I’m going,” I said, grabbing my towel like a shield.
I stepped out quickly, my eyes glued to the stone floor, determined not to look at anything. I needed to get out of here before someone dropped their towel.
*********
By the time the boys had left for breakfast, I had returned to wash myself and rewrap my chest with fresh bandages. I made sure it was tight and secure; the last thing I needed was for the wraps to fall out of place in plain sight when the physical training began.
When I came back to the dining hall to have my breakfast, All the boys had gone, and the long wooden tables were cleared, the plates scraped clean, and the cups drained of their coffee. I went to the breakfast lady, and there was nothing left for me, not even a crust of bread.
I would be training on an empty belly. How delightful.
I forced myself not to sulk. Instead, I made a mental plan: I would rise before everyone else and have my bath. I would not miss breakfast again, not for modesty, not even to daydream of Roman’s abs.
I joined the boys who were now gathered at the large hall as we filed out towards the training arena. My boots scuffed against the stone path as we descended into the arena, a vast circular field surrounded by tall wooden posts and lined with ancient weapons hung like war relics.
An older man stood before us, his silver hair tied at the nape of his neck, his posture as straight as a sword. He wore a dark tunic belted at the waist, and his eyes swept over every one of us.
“Good morning, young Alphas and sons of ordinary man,” he greeted. “I am Master Aldric, and it is my honor to serve as your trainer during your time at this hallowed academy.”
The boys around me stood taller at once, some puffing their chests, others nodding with forced seriousness. I simply tried to keep my breathing even and not pass out from hunger.
“Today, we shall test your strength,” Master Aldric continued. “Not merely of the body, but of the will. You shall be observed, weighed, and assigned to your proper category if fortune smiles upon you. Combat. Tracking. Strategy. Or, for those whose skills are lacking, the House of Endurance.”
A few boys exchanged glances. I had no idea what the House of Endurance meant, but by the tone of his voice, it did not sound flattering.
“Prepare yourselves,” Master Aldric said. “For this day shall separate the boys from the beasts.”
He turned sharply and motioned toward a set of stone rings carved into the field. “Let the trials begin.”
- Writer
