The sun was barely up, casting a faint orange glow over the training grounds as I squared off with Mal. We had been at this for a few weeks now, and while we weren’t experts, we were getting better. Logan was still recovering, but the rest of us couldn’t afford to stop training. We had to be ready for anything.
“Alright, Mal, remember what I taught you,” I said, raising my fists. “Stay light on your feet. Don’t just swing wildly. Use your whole body.”
Mal nodded, her eyes focused, though I could tell she was still a bit nervous. This wasn’t easy for her, but she’d come a long way since the first time I’d shown her how to defend herself.
“Got it,” she replied, taking a defensive stance.
I circled her slowly, waiting for her to make the first move. She wasn’t bad-better than most people who’d never fought before-but there was still room for improvement.
She lunged at me, her fist aimed straight for my chest. I sidestepped, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back. She grunted in surprise, but I let her go quickly.
“That’s not bad,” I said, “but you telegraphed your move. You’ve gotta make it faster, more unpredictable.”
She nodded again, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Right. I’ll try again.”
This time, Mal was more patient. She feinted a punch, and when I reacted, she quickly jabbed at my side. I blocked it, but the move was smoother.
“Better,” I said, offering her a quick smile. “You’re getting the hang of it.”
Mal let out a breath and backed up, ready to try again. We’d been practicing these moves every day, little by little. Each time we fought, I could see her confidence grow, but I knew we still had a lot of work to do.
“Okay, let’s take a break,” I said after a few more rounds. “We need to stay sharp, but no point in pushing too hard.”
She nodded, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. “I’m getting tired of getting thrown around, though.”
I chuckled. “It’s all part of the process. You’ll get stronger. Just keep practicing.”
Mal gave me a determined look. “I will. I won’t stop until I’m ready.”
I smiled, proud of how far she’d come. “Good. We’ll need every bit of strength we can get.”
I dusted my hands off and grabbed the canteen lying near the edge of the training area. “Take five,” I called to Mal. She waved me off, sitting down on a fallen log and gulping water like her life depended on it.
I headed toward the cabin, the faint scent of something burning hitting my nose before I even got to the door. My heart sank. Logan.
Pushing the door open, I was greeted by the sight of him standing over the wood-burning stove, a pan in his hands. Smoke curled lazily upward, and the smell of charred…something filled the air. He turned as I entered, his face set in an expression of forced calm, though his frustration was evident.
“You’re supposed to flip pancakes, not fry them into oblivion,” I said, biting back a laugh.
Logan rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a grin. “They’re edible,” he shot back, poking at the blackened circles with a wooden spatula. “Mostly.”
“Logan, I love your confidence, but this looks like a crime scene.” I walked over, snatching the spatula from his hand. “You’re supposed to be resting, not burning the cabin down.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted, though his pale complexion and the slight shake in his hand told a different story. “Besides, I couldn’t let you and Mal starve while you’re out there training.”
“You mean while we’re out there saving your life,” I teased, bumping him lightly with my hip to move him aside. “Sit. I’ll handle this.”
Logan hesitated, but the exhaustion in his eyes eventually won out. He sank into a chair near the table, watching as I scraped the pan clean and poured a fresh batch of batter.
“So,” I began, keeping my tone light, “you’re up early. Feeling better?”
“Getting there,” he replied, leaning back with a wince. “I just hate sitting around while you and Mal are working so hard. I should be out there with you.”
I turned my head to look at him, arching an eyebrow. “You’d barely last five minutes in a sparring session right now. Trust me, Logan, you’re doing enough just by focusing on getting better.”
His gaze softened, and for a moment, the cocky mask he always wore slipped away. “I just… I hate feeling useless.”
“You’re not useless,” I said firmly, flipping a pancake and turning back to face him. “We all have our roles. Right now, yours is healing. That’s how you’re helping us.”
He nodded slowly, but I could tell my words only half-convinced him. Logan was used to being the strong one, the protector. This forced vulnerability didn’t sit well with him.
I slid a plate of pancakes in front of him, setting down a jar of syrup with a flourish. “Here. Eat. No excuses.”
He glanced at the plate, then back at me, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “This almost makes up for the fact that you’re bossy.”
I crossed my arms, grinning. “Almost? If you keep that attitude, you’re cooking the next meal.”
Logan laughed softly, the sound warming the cabin more than the fire ever could. “Fair enough. Thanks, Audrey.”
I shrugged, hiding the way his words made my heart flutter. “Don’t mention it. Now eat up. Mal and I will need backup sooner than you think, and I can’t have you passing out on us.”
The cabin door creaked open, and Liam stepped inside, his boots leaving faint trails of dirt on the wooden floor. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his sharp eyes taking in the scene.
“Wow,” he drawled, a sarcastic grin spreading across his face. “Breakfast and bonding time. Should I come back later, or is this a public event?”
Logan didn’t even glance up from his plate. “Don’t you have something better to do, Liam? Like sharpening your knives or brooding in a corner?”
“Funny,” Liam replied, pushing off the doorframe and strolling into the room. “But someone’s gotta keep an eye on you, Mr. Hero. Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself flipping pancakes.”
I smirked, wiping my hands on a rag. “To be fair, Logan’s culinary skills are about as dangerous as Warwick’s wolves.”
Logan shot me a look, though his lips twitched with amusement. “I’m starting to think you two rehearsed this.”
“Rehearsed? Nah,” Liam said, grabbing an apple from the counter and tossing it in the air. “We’re just naturally gifted. Unlike some people.” He nodded toward Logan’s half-burnt plate.
Logan rolled his eyes and took another bite of his pancake. “Do you have a point, or are you just here to remind everyone how annoying you are?”
Liam shrugged, taking a bite out of the apple. “Just came to let you know Mal’s ready for round two. She said something about wanting to actually land a hit this time.”
I chuckled, grabbing a towel to clean up the counter. “She’s determined, I’ll give her that. She’s getting better, though.”
“Better isn’t good enough,” Liam said, his tone turning serious for a moment. “If Warwick’s pack finds us again, ‘better’ won’t cut it. We all need to be ready.”
Logan set his fork down, his expression hardening. “We will be. I might not be out there yet, but I’m not staying on the sidelines forever.”
Liam raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Instead, he turned to me. “Well, since Logan’s clearly busy recovering”-he said the word with a mocking lilt-“why don’t you come show me what you’ve got, Coach?”