6. Assistent

Mila’s pov

Did Argo really think he could swoop in and take over the whole training ground? I had been training here every morning and sometimes afternoon since I got here. Besides, Brax deserved some alone time with Airk.

At the Silver Claw pack, we celebrated coming of age in a big way, especially since I was part of the Alpha’s family. Not just with a fancy dress party, where we would wear ball gowns and suits, but also with a competition between all the seventeen-year-olds that hadn’t gotten their wolf yet.

Four times a year, there would be a tournament between all the seventeen-year-olds that would be getting their wolf that year. And it so happened that a few days before my birthday, another tournament would start.

It was a way to prove your strength and skill, to show that even as a human, you were strong. And then, once you got your wolf, there was a chance to prove yourself against the older wolves.

Mom didn’t want me to join the tournament because she was scared I would look bruised and full of scratches during my party. But I didn’t care. Besides, I think it would look pretty badass in a ballgown sporting a black eye. Plenty of guys have rocked the look before, so why couldn’t I? I'd heal as soon as I got my wolf, anyway.

But I needed to keep up with my training to win the tournament. While I was treated with respect at home, because of who my family was, I wasn’t popular. I wasn’t the girl the boys looked at or the girl they asked out.

Once I got my mate, all of that wouldn’t matter anyway. He would love me for me and adore my curves and my loud personality. He wouldn’t insult me like Argo had.

I wasn’t going to waste any tears on that jerk, but his words had stung. But I decided right there and then that I wouldn’t be stopped. That his words would fuel me instead of slow me down. I would use the anger and hurt to make sure that one day I would be able to beat his ass.

"Are you done daydreaming, or should I just head to the training ground on my fucking own?" Argo asked.

I had been staring at the wall while thinking of all the ways I would hurt Argo once I got the chance.

"I didn’t ask you to wait for me," I replied.

"We told your brother we were going to work together, so let’s fucking go." Argo said, walking ahead.

stupid, pretty boy. I guess he was only blessed in the looks department. And maybe fighting. But his heart and his brain weren’t very well developed. Calling me names like he was a damn child. As if I hadn’t heard most of it before.

So why did it hurt more when he said it?

I followed behind him, and when we were close, I sprinted ahead. "Look! Fat girls can run too."

"Why the fuck were you eavesdropping anyway? It was a private fucking conversation."

I shook my head, scoffing aloud. "Wow. I should have figured that a guy like you doesn’t know how to apologize properly. Blame it on the person who accidently heard you say nasty shit, not on the person who actually said it."

"What’s that supposed to mean? A guy like me. You don’t fucking know me." Argo replied, taking his shirt off before he started warming up.

He had a great comeback in mind when I wanted to respond, but his abs distracted me. Damn. The pretty boy was perfect. Well, his body.

"Are you going to fucking answer me or just stare? You know "guys like me" are way out of your fucking league." He said, using air quotes.

"Yeah, because a girl like me could never have a hot alpha male as her mate." I replied.

He smirked when I called him hot. "No, because you couldn't handle someone like me. You need a fucking pushover—a shy, timid boy that won’t ever disagree. Someone weak and spineless."

I grunted and grabbed a pair of boxing gloves. Beating the hell out of a punching bag would help. Especially if I imagined it was Argo’s face. "If you were my mate, I’d reject you."

"Finally something we fucking agree on," Argo spit out before he joined the soldiers in the middle of the field.

I taped my hands and started beating the bag. I missed home and my friends. I missed mom and my siblings, but I had wanted to come here to get some independence. To show them I wasn’t a little girl anymore.

I also wanted to see the Blood Rock pack again. Despite all the bad memories, some part of me still felt at home here. The red mountains calmed me, the people were nice, and I loved being near my big brother.

Taking a deep breath, I decided I wasn’t going to let Argo ruin this for me. I’d ignore him from now on, focusing on myself and the reasons why I was here. Spending time with Brax and Elora, training, and hopefully finding the right dress for the party. It wouldn’t be until a few months, but I was hoping that if I bought a dress here, it would stand out from all the other dresses in the Silver Claw pack.

I wanted to stand out on my birthday in the best possible way.

"Gather around everyone," Argo shouted from the middle, but I ignored him and kept punching the bag.

Everyone moved towards Argo and waited in silence for whatever he was going to say. The only sound you could hear were my fists connecting with the punching bag.

"Fucking hell, Mila. Could you punch any louder? Could you join us too? Or are you so fucking special that you don’t count as everybody?" Argo growled at me.

I rolled my eyes and stopped punching. I wasn’t going to join them, but I didn’t want to distract anyone either.

"Hi, I’m Argo Fox Omari. You might know my dad or my sister, but you don’t know me. I like to fight. Not in an "Iron Alpha" way. I like different martial arts, getting better as a fighter and athlete, and challenging myself. I’m not perfect; I fucking know that. But I do think I can help you learn some new moves. And hopefully how to work as a fucking team. You’re fucking brave to become soldiers, but bravery is not enough. I don’t have my wolf yet, but I know most wolves can fight just out of fucking instinct. We, as humans, lost that a bit. So we’re going to train so fucking much that you’ll be able to fight in your fucking sleep. It’s all about muscle memory."

A soldier raised his hand, and Argo nodded. "Muscle memory?"

"Like typing on your phone. You don’t even need to look at the fucking thing anymore. When riding a bike or a car, after a while you don't have to fucking think while driving. So starting today, we’re going to be training every fucking day, and you’ll get tired and annoyed from doing the same fucking work, but soon, you won’t even have to think when fighting. Once you’re there, we move on to the next step. And Mila, the fucking stubborn girl over there, will be helping you whenever she’s here. Right, sunshine?"

He winked at a woman and smirked, "It’s sarcastic because she never ever smiles and her mood is dark like a fucking thunder cloud."

A few people chuckled.

"Yeah, I’ll be here." I replied. "And if you do get annoyed by doing the same thing, just imagine pretty boy’s face over there when you’re fighting. It really helps."

I got a bigger laugh than Argo, but that might be because I’m Brax’s sister.

The rest of the afternoon, whenever someone had a question about materials or simple training problems, Argo would point them in my direction. I had never volunteered to help out. I was here to train myself, not the soldiers. I didn’t want to shout that across the field during his speech, but the more people came to me with silly issues, the more I wished I had.

When it was time for dinner, I was sweaty, annoyed, and tired. The sun was blistering hot, and I had put my shirt off despite hearing Argo’s words repeating inside my head. I had just as much right to wear what I wanted, especially when it was this hot.

Argo walked over to me and stared at my chest before his eyes traveled up to my face.

"You look like a fucking tomato."

"It’s hot! And I’ve been busy being your damn assistant. I never even offered to help; I just wanted to be able to train here."

Argo shrugged, "you’re not the worst fighter here; they respect you because you’re Brax’s little sister, and it keeps me from having to handle the small annoying crap."

"So I am your assistant..." I scoffed.

"Thanks for accepting the job," He replied with a wink before walking out of the training grounds.

"I didn’t accept anything! I want to train to be the best of my year. I don’t have time to waste helping you." I said, springing behind him.

Argo stopped walking and sighed, "you won’t be the fucking best if you keep doing what you’re doing. You have to try something new."

"What about "muscle memory"?" I asked, using air quotes and mimicking his stupid voice.

"You already know how to fight. Now you need to up your fucking game. I could show you some more advanced moves."

"If?"

"If you help me out, I’m not fucking patient, and I don’t deal well with stupid questions. So I’ll refer the worst soldiers or the dumbest request over to you."

I rolled my eyes. Wow, that pretty boy was annoying and arrogant.

"And in return, I’ll train you," Argo offered.

"I still hate you."

"Feelings are fucking mutual, but do we have a fucking deal or not?" Argo said, looking at my chest again.

"If you stop staring."

Argo laughed: "They’re so big. If you run out of moves, you can always suffocate them with your fucking boobs. Like two big pillows." He pretended to push an imaginary pillow over someone’s head. "Go to sleep."

"I might just use that on you," I said, walking away when I realized I had offered to suffocate him with my breasts. Did that count as flirting?

"One hell of a way to go," Argo muttered to himself.