Only Broken

Training Day Troubles

I sprint toward the training room, dodging early workers and half-awake pack members like it’s a high-stakes obstacle course.

I am not getting yelled at by Gamma Michael again. That would make it three times in a row. And honestly? I don’t think my pride can handle a hat trick of public humiliation.

As I near the entrance, I slow down to catch my breath. Thank the heavens it takes a lot for werewolves to sweat because I'd hate to regret that shower I took before training.

Peeking through the window, I check if they've started—or worse, if Gamma Michael is already inside. Luckily, luck's on my side. Neither has happened.

Relieved, just as I move toward the door, someone blocks my path making my heart skip a beat.

"You're late," he says, looking down at me.

I sigh a bit relieved. "Shut up James. You're also late."

I roll my eyes as we walk into the room together, heading toward the group of trainees.

“You’re looking nice. What’s the occasion?” he teases, stepping just a little too close.

“We’re wearing the same thing,” I mutter, keeping my face neutral.

He chuckles. “You showered, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.” I fight the smile threatening to break through, but he just laughs.

“Have fun,” he murmurs with a smirk, then heads off to join the guys.

I narrow my eyes as he walks away—straight toward Christopher, who’s already chuckling while shaking his head.

I turn away and head to the girls' side,

whilst trying my best to ignore the usual glares, whispers, and stares.

"Okay, warm-up time is over! Gather around!" Gamma Michael’s deep voice booms across the room, and we all hurry to the center, forming two line. Boys on one side, girls on the other, with a large space between us.

Three guys walk toward us, and two of them split from Gamma Michael to join the male line.

Butterflies instantly flutter in my belly when I see him.

Liam.

I try really hard not to blush. Gosh, how did I become the typical teenager with a ridiculous crush?

"Good morning, everyone," Gamma Michael greets.

"Good morning, Gamma," we echo.

"Today’s going to be the usual drill. The males train on their side, the females on theirs," he says, pointing.

"But before training ends, there will be a sparring match—boys against girls."

My eyes widen as whispers of excitement ripple through the group.

Well, that’s new. Usually, the boys don’t train with the girls. For obvious reasons. But it looks like Gamma Michael is trying something different today.

"That's all. Dismissed!" he commands, and everyone rushes to their side of the room, buzzing with energy.

Meanwhile, I’m internally screaming. I always dread coming to training—but it’s mandatory. Young werewolves need to be prepared.

We train in order to learn how to protect ourselves, and most importantly, to discipline our bodies in preparation for our first shift at 18.

Shifting means we can turn into our wolf forms anytime after that painful first shift. Apparently, the pain gets easier... eventually.

It also has something to do with finding our mates. I don’t know much about it—because according to Malia (stepmom) we’re still too young. But I do know mates are like soulmates for werewolves.

Luckily for me, I’ll be taking "Intro to Mates" classes when I turn 17 next year. Joy?

No...it just means there's more stuff to learn. And I hope it won't be too much for my brain.

"Samantha!" Gamma Michael’s voice cuts into my thoughts like a blade.

I snap out of it, startled, only to find him glaring at me. People glance our way, some giggling so I quickly try to mimic the instructor’s movements and catch up.

"She’s never focused in training. No wonder they call her the 'human wolf.'"

I hear the whisper from the girls to my left and force a deep breath. I try not to let it get to me—but that nickname stings.

I smile to myself, refusing to break, and turn my focus to the instructor.

My silly eyes somehow briefly drift toward the boys’ side... .and they land on a shirtless, blue-eyed, dirty-blonde with a cute smile.

Male werewolves don’t wear tops during training. Something about intense sessions and too much sweat. Not that I’m complaining.

"Hey," someone says beside me, a girl with black hair. I turn, realizing we’ve been paired up.

I blush with embarrassment, nod, and try to refocus, but she just frowns and rolls her eyes.

I don’t have friends here. No one wants to be friends with the human wolf raised by humans for 13 years—yeah, I’m the outsider.

But I’m used to it. I didn’t have friends in my old life either.

Training continues and I do my best not to daydream about Liam.

"Okay, gather around!" Gamma Michael calls after an hour, and we return to the center.

The girls giggle beside me like a rack of designer bags just dropped in front of them.

And honestly? That’s kind of what this is. The boys are basically shirtless male models.

I roll my eyes and glance across the room. The boys are grinning too. Especially those three idiots—excluding Liam, of course.

“I’m betting our side wins this duel,” James announces through the mind link, and I almost smile.

A mind link—it's how werewolves talk to each other without speaking out loud. Like telepathy, it's a way for pack members to have silent conversations, all thanks to werewolf instincts and biology.

I gained the ability when I accepted this pack and everything that comes with the supernatural world.

“You sure about that?” Liam chimes in.

“You doubting us, Liam?” Chris asks.

“I’m just saying, some of these girls can kick ass,” Liam replies, and the guys chuckle.

I nearly smile again but catch Gamma Michael raising a brow at me so I quickly erase any trace of emotion.

“I agree with Liam. Kayla could totally take one of us down,” Leo adds.

“Kayla’s strong, but she couldn’t beat me. Or any of us,” James says smugly.

“Wanna bet?” Liam challenges, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Get ready to lose,” James fires back confidently.

They always do this—place bets during training and somehow, I always get roped in.

Maybe it’s their way of making me feel included. I don’t know. But it works.

“Sammy, you in?” James asks.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to ask her that.” Chris snaps, shooting him a glare.

“Until she breaks and finally—”

“Put me down for twenty bucks. My side’s winning,” I cut in.

Silence.

Liam’s smile suddenly grows. I quickly glance away, fighting the blush and the sudden swarm of butterflies in my stomach.

“Twenty bucks? Seriously? Aren’t you like, a billionaire?” James teases.

“Shut up,” I mutter, chuckling despite myself.

Gamma Michael finishes his little speech, then begins pacing between the two groups, scanning for his first pick.

It’s obvious he’ll choose Kayla—she’s the strongest girl here. A potential female general.

He stops and clears his throat before looking at the girls' line. My heart skips a beat when his eyes land on me.

"Samantha, step into the middle."

Gosh no!