“Every day.”
“No way,” Sloane exclaimed. “That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not.” Marcus glanced at him before he turned back to Tegan. “When Leonid trained me, I had a similar schedule, but I am Lycan.”
“You think I cannot have the same stamina as a Lycan?” Tegan smiled at Marcus as she put her cutlery down, her food finished.
“You eat fast for a female,” Sloane observed.
“You speak a lot, as typical for a male,” Tegan deadpanned, Blythe snorted as she collected her plate. “Thank you, that was delicious,” Tegan acknowledged.
“I think you’re eighteen and don’t know what it’s like to be young,” Marcus observed quietly.
“Daughter, did you eat?” Leonid asked from behind her. He and Salem had come quietly into the room as the others spoke.
“Yes, father. It was good,” Tegan got to her feet, lifting her pack from the floor. “I have not observed Reflection.”
“I know, come, we can do some soft training if you wish?”
“I would.” She didn’t notice Marcus’s scowl or Sloane’s incredulous look.
“Farewell,” Leonid bowed his head before turning and leading Tegan from the room.
Sloane waited a few moments before facing Marcus. “She’s a machine, she has to be.”
“She’s a soldier,” Michael said from the corner of the room.
“By the Ancients, Michael, I told you to stop that sneaky stuff!” Sloane exclaimed as he scowled at his friend who moved further into the kitchen and sat on the seat his sister had just vacated. “When did you even come in here?”
“Halfway through,” Michael smirked. “Marcus noticed.”
“He’s a Lycan,” Sloane rolled his eyes.
“She noticed too,” Michael commented quietly.
“Whatever,” Sloane grumbled as he slouched in his seat.
“She does that all day, every day.” Michael looked at Marcus before turning to his father, who had come in with Leonid. “I can see why she is Elite.”
“Her schedule is absolutely brutal,” Sloane muttered as he beamed at Cook, who placed a sandwich in front of him. “You know how much I love you, female?” Sloane winked at her she chuckled as she went back to her dishes.
“What did Leonid say when we were gone?” Michael asked.
“She needs training,” Salem sighed.
“Not likely,” Michael snorted.
“In Court and Court fashion,” Salem sighed again heavily. “I think we could introduce some human studies into her day also.”
“Same old prejudices?” Marcus asked.
“Yes.”
“Pity,” Marcus sighed as he leaned back.
“Fashion?” Michael asked.
“She won’t wear a dress,” Salem shrugged. “We hold Court here, plus we will need to see your father.” Salem directed the latter part to Sloane, who dropped his sandwich in distaste. “Sorry.”