Tegan frowned as she resumed her short sword routines. “I do not understand. Your faeces is calling you? How is that possible? Is that a Castor trick?”
Michael erupted in laughter, and the more confused Tegan became, the louder he laughed. Soon he was on the floor, holding his sides while tears ran down his face. Tegan stopped her training routine. She had no idea what her brother was laughing at. When Sloane came into the training room with Jasper, she explained why Michael was choking on his laughter. Jasper snorted in amusement as Sloane enveloped her in an embrace.
“You are the absolute bestest,” Sloane told her affectionately. He looked down at his friend who was lying on the mat, grinning at them both.
“I needed that, thank you, Tegan,” Michael said as he jumped to his feet.
“I still do not understand!” Tegan cried in exasperation.
“It means you didn’t sugar-coat it; you knew Michael was speaking bull—nonsense—and you called him out on it. You addressed it for what it was,” Sloane explained to her.
“Oh.” Tegan squinted as she thought about it. “That also makes no sense, but more sense than what Michael said.” She nodded in acceptance. “It really was not that funny.”
“Sloane, let’s spar,” Michael interrupted quickly. He could see Tegan was about to get a lecture in comedy from Sloane.
“That leaves me with you,” Jasper said as he looked her over. “I’m still recovering,” he told her as he held up his arm. “That means you take it easy on me, Elite.”
“Do not be a baby.” Tegan’s grin was wicked. “You are Elite, not an infant. Sticks, knives or swords?” She held up her two short swords as if to emphasise the weapon.
“I said easy?” Jasper reminded her.
“And I did not offer hand-to-hand combat, did I?”
“You are ruthless,” Jasper muttered as he headed over to the weapon wall and picked up kali sticks. “Fine, sticks it is.”
Soon the training room was quiet with the only sounds being that of Akrhyn training. The four of them noticed the Principal Elder and his Second enter the room. They carried on training. It was common for their superiors to join training sessions and watch progress. Michael and Sloane finished their sparring session before Tegan and Jasper, and the two of them both sat and watched.
The fact Jasper was sporting an injury was not lost on anyone in the room, and his defence and short bursts of attack were notable. Kali sticks were best for when a Sentinel was injured, as they were an extension of the body. However, it may not have mattered the health of her opponent, Tegan was formidable. It also was apparent that Michael was not the only one sporting some left over resentment at the attack.
As she advanced on her partner, her blows became more heavy hitting, more solid until she was at the point of injuring Jasper more. A kali stick blocked her from moving any further on her partner. With a momentary look of surprise, Tegan turned her attack on Marcus. The Lycan had taken a kali stick from Sloane, and as he defended himself against Tegan’s two, Michael threw him another one.
Lycan and Sentinel travelled across the room. Blow for blow was matched, and as Tegan ducked the Lycan’s high kick, she rolled to her feet, grinning widely. Marcus gave out a burst of laughter as he came at her again. Now, the attacker was the attacked, and Tegan was focusing on her defence. However, both had been trained by the impeccable master of kali sticks, Leonid Novikov. Every trick he knew, he had taught tobothMarcus and Tegan.
Tegan spun suddenly, her kali stick flying out as a well-aimed stick to intercept her opponent as she moved away from him, only to drop and swipe at Marcus’s legs. But Marcus was ready for her. He jumped lightly, and the golden alpha sheen in his eyes burned brighter. Marcus lunged forward, his Lycan strength and speed taking Tegan off guard by a moment. As she absorbed the hit, she brought her other kali stick up and over her shoulder as she danced around the overreached alpha and brought it sharply across his kidneys. Marcus stumbled and retaliated with a burst of speed behind her. The sticks were forgotten, and they faced each other hand-to-hand.
“You can continue?” Marcus asked eagerly.
“Until you are down, Lycan.” Tegan grinned at him.
The two of them launched themselves at each other. They were majestic to watch, their movements perfection, their bodies fluid as they danced across the floor. For that was what the observers were watching. A lethal dance of skill, precision and clear masters in their art. They ended up close together, Marcus with his hand around Tegan’s throat whilst Tegan had a blade against Marcus’s femoral artery.
They shared a smile as they stood back, and both looked in surprise to the round of applause they were receiving. The training room was fuller. Trainees, Elite Sentinels, house staff, all stood watching them in admiration.
“I feel like I should have been more aware we had such an audience,” Marcus said quietly as he looked at Tegan.
“I was lost in the training,” Tegan admitted just as softly. “You move like father.”
“Taught by the best...”
“To be the best,” Tegan finished. They smiled at each other in easy familiarity.
“We resume your training as Leonid bid before he left. Tomorrow, Elite.” Marcus clasped Tegan’s shoulder in camaraderie as he walked past her.
“What time?” she asked as he walked over to Salem.
“Five. You are rusty, relying on aknifeto win the advantage.” Marcus and Salem exchanged a grin as they left the room, and Tegan’s laughter followed them out.
“I haven’t seen that level of skill in an Akrhyn so young before,” Salem said as they walked down the hall to his office.