Lycan’s Kiss — Bending not breaking

It’s rude to stare

Ezekiel

I suppress a groan when I feel the prosthetic on my left arm short circuit—F**king great.

‘You overdid it… again’

‘Shut up, Rex. We bench pressed double that yesterday.’

‘Well, today isn’t yesterday, is it, show off?’ my Lycan quips. And I know he’s right, but there’s no way I’m giving into this on the day the new recruits start. I need to bring my A-Game; achy joints and malfunctioning prosthetics aren’t an option.

Looking at the stump of my left leg lying against the bench, I clench my hands into fists. At least this thing is not giving me a headache today.

When I look up, I see one of the newbies staring at it.

“Can I help you with something, cadet?” My tone is so sharp it makes the young man jump.

“N-No, sir.” His eyes widen when it dawns on him who I am once his gaze hits my jaw and then passes over my face.

I should let it go. Tell him not to stare and just continue with what he’s doing. But I can’t. Not today. Not when I feel like crap and the urge to make everyone as miserable as myself overwhelms my whole being. Mornings like this have been more common in the last six years.

“What’s your name, cadet?”

“Bennett. Ugh... J-Jason Bennett, sir… I-I mean Beta.”

A cruel smile spreads on my face. “Well, Bennett. Ugh-Jason Bennett, you just earned yourself bandage rolling duty for the next week and an extra ten laps during tomorrow's morning drill.”

The guy goes completely pale while I push up and sit at the edge of the bench, putting on my leg. When I get up, I’m half a foot taller than him. Passing him, my towel around my shoulders, I slowly walk out of the weight room.

“Your mother really should have taught you not to stare… It’s rude.”

“Yes sir…I-I mean Colonel… Beta?” The sentence turned into a question, and my mouth into a hard line at the pain shooting up my arm. They meant well, trying to give me the best after I lost my limbs. But there’re more days I regret letting them experiment on my arm than not. While my leg is your ‘standard’ prosthetic (not really), this one is actually attached to my body and makes me look like a cyborg.

He misinterprets my facial expression to be dislike for him, and he turns beet red, his lower lip trembling. I sigh. Great, my reputation of being the instructor that has the highest numbers of dropouts and makes at least eight cadets cry a day holds up.

“Any of them is fine. I prefer Colonel over Beta, but you’ve done nothing wrong with the above. Just keep your eyes to yourself around here. All of you are here to join forces and serve your community. It’s not your job to judge each other. Let Alpha Cole, Gamma Archer, and I worry about that.”

I leave, my back straight, concealing the limp that has tortured me for years now. The things I have done to compensate for the constant feeling of loss after I literally LOST body parts. But I’m not going to whine. I’m alive. I know others who aren’t.

The pulsing pain in my shoulder intensifies, and I see the main culprit jump a few times, sending a buzz into my joint. This is the one circuit they can never figure out how to fix or get to work without malfunctioning. It’s right where the metal arm connects to my actual flesh, the wiring bound and connected to every nerve in the stump that is left of my left arm. And this crucial circuit has been giving me hell every few days, forcing me to work out the kinks following the tiny wires with my fingers untangling and bending them a little until they don’t send zaps of pain up my arm any longer. Which my digits are entirely too big for.

Crossing over to the concrete building that houses most of the higher-ranking staff, I nod at the two men standing guard at the entrance.

In my room, I throw on my typical uniform for a day of getting under the new recruits’ skins: Meant to show off my prosthetics. Why the hell not? Only reason I kept the piece of silvery-looking metal they replaced the piece of bone in my lower jaw with. So the t-shirt with the pack crest and workout shorts are just right. Tying my impeccably cleaned workout shoes, I inspect the padding around the stump of my leg one last time. Looks good to me. Should hold up during the first session. I will add to it later before the first unit on ‘first aid’ and later ‘Search and rescue’ for the recruits training to be part of our medical team.

I was a field medic in the US Army for over ten years, so this felt like a natural continuation of my career when I won the title of Beta here at Blood Forrest. I was at the ‘anger’ stage of grieving back then. OK, maybe I still am. But it helped me. I applied when they called for a competition to name the next Beta and Gamma of the Guard. Since we serve the whole supernatural community, all kinds of shifters and supernatural beings applied. After being vetted and put up in a first round against the ‘in-house’ applicants, they threw us into the ring. ‘Last man standing’ style. Archer, the Viking-looking lone wolf, and I were the ones that were left in the last round.

The rest is history. Just shortly after our initiation, Alpha Richard died, and since he had named his son to stand-in in his place, there was no competition held to fill this position… out of respect for the old Alpha. Not because people thought Cole was such a threat, they couldn’t take him on.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a skilled fighter, but if it weren’t for people's respect for his father and his charming nature, there would have been a call to host the competition for the Alpha Titel earlier. I know Cole is scared of the upcoming fall when it will be his turn to defend his rank…or not. He’s been training hard.

Strutting into the dining hall, I pick up my usual bowl of oatmeal and greet Archer with a small nod before sitting down across from my Alpha. Cole gives me a broad smile and a thumbs up.

“Excited to start training the newbies today?”

I raise a brow at him. “If you can call being content to do my job and train them well ‘excited’, then yeah.”

“Awesome.”, he gives me one of his usually wide grins, and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. “I know this will be a specifically talented badge. Wanna bet on the number of dropouts this year? The pot is still open.”

“No.” Digging my spoon in, I focus on the brown sugar on top of my bowl I now fold under.

“Such a buzz kill sometimes.” Cole shrugs it off and turns to Archer with an excited gesture.

“Well, as I said, the exciting news just keep coming. Great recruits and now even a new team member to train them…” The smirk turns a little dreamy. “Alpha Hartgraves's sister will be a great addition. I just know it.”

Food is always somewhat tasteless, but right now, this oatmeal actually turns into what feels like maggots on my tongue.

“What?”

Cole raises an eyebrow looking up from his own serving just across from me.

“She is coming to stay for a few months and help train the new medics. I talked about it with Theo the other day, and he offered. Said she was a big help with keeping things running over there.”

F**k me. Keeping things running over there. I really don’t need an entitled Alpha chick telling me what I can and can’t do, how to train the soldiers under MY command. Ridiculous!

“And you’re telling me this now? I’m your Beta. Don’t you think I should have been given a heads up or consulted? Since training the new medical staff on the force is my job… has been for four years.” My tone is calm, but my eyes are burning into the crown of his head, bending over his bowl. “When is she coming?”

Cole’s face morphs into an apologetic mask. “ This afternoon. Sorry, Zeke. I didn’t think you would have a problem with it. She’s a professional and well trained so…. I thought you valued that and…. Would be OK with her input…?”

I suppress the snort at his presumptuousness and swallow the comment about ‘Zeke’ not being my name. He’s a boy. I will let it slide. Getting worked up about minor things like this will only piss me off and not do much to change him. His heart is in the right place, but my goddess, would he be lost if it wasn’t for Archer or me saving his a**. ALL THE TIME!! He is still our Alpha, though, and that means something. So we endure his foolishness and let him call us ‘Zeke’ and ‘Archie’ just for the fun of it. And it will also be why I’ll bite my tongue and endure the big-headed Alpha off-spring playing doctor for a few months.

How hard can it be?

‘Really f**king hard! Since when do we take instructions from someone that isn’t our Alpha?!’

‘F**k all the way off! You’re not helping.’

My Lycan just huffs and retreats into the back of my head. The rest of the breakfast passes in silence. Well, at least on mine and Archer’s part. Cole can’t shut up. And by the way, he is talking about this girl it’s safe to say he’s hoping to get lucky and that the decision to let her come here wasn’t made entirely using the brain that should no doubt be between his ears. Although I really question that at the moment… and not for the first time.

After dropping my bowl with the people on cleaning duty, I step out as fast as possible. We rotate those responsibilities, and everyone has to take over at least once a month. The Alpha, Beta, and Gamma being exceptions. But Archer and I made it a point not to exclude ourselves from the raster. Cole, however…

I need a break from his rambling. I didn’t hear anything of what he said, but the constant background noise alone is sure to give me a headache.

Rounding the building, I make my way over to the training facility as slowly as possible. I still have time. Maybe I’ll run a few laps before the training session starts.

Crunchy footfalls behind me tell me someone is coming up next to me and since I’m not being clapped on the shoulder and called ‘dude’, I know it’s not Cole looking to chew my ear off for a little longer.

Archer walks beside me silently for a few minutes.

“It’s not that terrible of an idea, you know?” He stuffs his hands deeper into the pockets of his shorts. I scoff.

“I met her once. Seemed like a nice girl. Good fighter too. And she’s a healer… that could really benefit us.”

My eyebrows furrow. “Why would a healer get medical training? What’s the point of that?”

Archer shrugs. “No idea. That’s something you can ask her when she gets here this afternoon.” And I swear I see a smirk play around his lips for a millisecond.

“Hard pass. I think I will keep the conversations to a minimum and focus on making sure she doesn’t mess with my recruits’ training.”

Shrugging again, the Gamma scratches his brow. “Suit yourself.”

Oh, will I ever.

____________

Elodie

My stomach twists when I pull up to the small window and hand the security guy my license and ID. It’s something about guns, I just don’t like. They give me the creeps.

‘Good that you’ll be surrounded by an AMRED MILITARY FORCE for months then.’

Ira is pissed at me. She didn’t want to do this, but how could I refuse my brother? When he asked me what I thought of helping train the new recruits for the medical team at Blood Forrest, I hesitated. But then there wasn’t really a reason for me to say no… not a valid one anyway.

I have only been back for a few months and am already getting itchy because there is nothing new for me to do at Blue Ridge. The restlessness that set in after Jordan died has kept me on my feet and moving for years now, and as much as I wanted my family to be enough…. They just aren’t. And that is hard to realize but even harder to admit. So I went with the cheery helpfulness again. Old Elodie would never refuse the opportunity to do something like this… so new Elodie can’t either. I drum on the steering wheel nervously.

The stone-faced guy gives me my ID back and gestures for me to continue.

“Take a turn at the stop sign ahead. Headquarters will be on your right then, ma'am.”

“Thank you, " I say with a broad smile, which isn’t reciprocated.

The road ahead is plastered, and the tiers roll smoothly, scratching only once I turn into what looks like a parking lot in front of a huge concrete building. Headquarters, I assume. It’s giving barracks or prison vibes with the small windows and the bars covering the glass of the ones on the ground floor. A shiver runs down my spine.

‘Welcome to hell. Look, the wardens have already come outside to play.’, Ira huffs, and my eyes land on two figures just exiting the building.

So, I will receive an actual welcome and not be forced to roam around trying to find out where I have to go. Breathing a sigh of relief, I slowly pull closer to the two men who stopped at the edge of the empty parking lot. I decide on a spot two rows down, so I can give myself a little pep talk and get ‘cheery’ Elodie out before I meet them. I know Cole, and I am actually excited to see him again. Used to have the biggest crush on that guy when I was younger, and a few months ago, I met him out, and one thing led to another. First time after my mate died, I went home with a guy. Even though it wasn’t really ‘home’. He was in New Orleans for a conference, and I was…around.

I guess it’s safe to say the restlessness isn’t the sole reason for me being here. Maybe finding some distraction from how much I still miss my mate with a sweet guy that reminds me of a golden retriever is just what I need.

Taking another deep breath, I push my door open and make sure my sundress doesn’t ride up when I climb out of the car. When I turn, I can already see Cole smile at me. He raises his hand and waves, his teeth flashing white. Returning his enthusiasm with a slight wave of my own, I make my way over to them.

‘You can do this. See, Cole is excited to see you. This will be a new challenge that you’re—

The internal pep talk seethes the moment my eyes move to the man standing next to Cole, hands behind his back, feet planted hip-wide. My steps slow down a little.

While most wolfs are tall and just built like tree trunks, with broad chests and arms like logs, this guy is all lean muscle. He’s still easily 6ft 5 but doesn’t exude brute strength. Reminds me more of a runner: a good deal of muscle but not overly heavy so that it would slow you down. His left arm is entirely made of metal and wires, so is his left leg. Prosthetics purposefully shown off to intimidate. The silver sheen molding perfectly against the rich color of his dark skin.

I suppress a shiver when my gaze hits his face and the smile plastered on mine falters a little. The left side of his lower jaw is a piece of shiny silver metal, making the rest of his almost …pretty face look even harder than the indifferent expression he put on. The long straight nose, high cheekbones, thick brows, and full lips give him a little bit of an androgynous look…like I said…handsome. But that’s canceled out the moment I meet his eyes.

For years, I have thought of hot chocolate, chestnuts, and the weathered bindings of an old book, when I thought of brown eyes. My mom's or Katie’s, our female gamma, always giving off such warmth. But those eyes are two cold lumps of brown coal. The look in them deadly… and focused solely on me.