Training

Craig’s P.O.V

The scent of hers filled my head, and I pulled her closer. Her lips full in mine and yet I couldn’t get enough. I placed my hand on her waist to hold her close to me, while the other rested at the small of her back.

She moaned in my mouth, and the sound sent a thrill down my blood to my cock. I haven’t felt like this before. I feel like consuming her, but I didn’t want to rush her. I took it slow.

I felt her hand in my hair, and I groan. My hand moved to her tight; I felt the mark she so wanted to know about. It felt warm under my palm, and it felt as if it was always meant to be part of her.

My hand traced it, slowly. But then she pushed me away.

She stepped back, taking in a deep breath. Her lower lip was swollen from the kiss, while her cheeks flushed red, probably from embarrassment. Somehow while we were kissing, she had dropped the knife.

She picked it up, apologizing.

I turned away from her, trying to relieve myself of the boner I have around her. How was I supposed to help her when her scent fills every part of me?

I tried to think of something else, but all I could think was the softness of her lips on mine, which wasn’t helping my condition in any way.

I took deep breath and force myself to picture my uncle’s face. Just like I had imagined, it worked, making me feel like a bucket of cold water was poured on me.

I turned to see her fondling with the knife. She looked cuter than before, and I cursed. If she truly was my mate, it was more reason I had to teach her to protect herself.

I came from a dangerous family.

“I’m sorry.”

She looked up at me and blinked. I had no idea what she was expecting to see from me, but she nodded. “I’m sorry, too.”

I nodded. “Let’s try it again. This time listen to me.”

She nodded again. She held the knife like a total novice, and her stance was the type that could easily make her fall.

I had no idea why no one taught her to protect herself, but it was a bad idea on their part. I moved closer behind her, forcing myself to resist the urge to touch her. The urge to kiss her lips until it was swollen under mine. The urge to touch the mark on her tight and find out exactly how it was shaped.

I tried not to focus on the feel of her hand on mine, especially when she fidgets on the knife. My hand covered her small own, and I helped her hold the knife properly, “You make sure to avoid touching the sharp edged, but you shouldn’t let your hand be too far. Make sure it’s settled in between with a balance.”

She copied my action; her eyes sharp on my hand, but I couldn’t help but notice how our heart beat as one. It was rare but ours did.

It was another thing we have in common apart from the rare blue eyes.

Once I saw that she was holding it better, I let go off her hand slowly, “Yes, you got it.” I moved back, immediately missing the warmth her body gave mine.

My wolf whines wanting to be close to her, and I get it was because she was our mate.

But I couldn’t just break it to her now, not when she just passed through a trauma from a supposed mate.

My moved until I was facing her. Then I picked up my knife, copying the move I had taught her. “Now, you familiarize yourself with it. You swing your hand like you aren’t holding anything.”

She nodded, and did just that, only for the knife to be thrown on the fall.

She frowned and picked it up, again.

She tried it again and again, and soon she started getting it.

I sat on the floor chewing on a grape I had picked up along the way. I watched her swing her arm and her tiny waist. If there was something I would commend about her, it was her determination. She clearly looked like she had someone she wanted to arm with the knife.

Soon, she was panting and swinging. I stood up to stop her. “It’s okay. You’ve done enough for the day.”

She shook her head, “I can still go. I don’t want to be the weak wolf that can’t protect herself.”

I nodded as I understood her. I was once that.

I was once the weak wolf that couldn’t protect myself, but no more.

“You’re not weak.

“I am. I can’t even protect myself back at home. I had to run for my life.”

I collected the knife from her, “Sometimes when we run, it’s not because we are weak. It’s just to re-strategize. It shows that battle wasn’t worth fighting at that point.”

Finally, she let her eyes land on mine, and she nodded.

She sat on the floor, panting. “Thank you.”

I nodded, and threw a grape at her, but she frowned, “I’m thirsty.”

“We need to get moving. We need to find a source of water and get ahead of our journey.”

She nodded. I knew she was tired from training, but we needed to move.

She sat up and we started walking again. Her scent was a constant reminder of the food displayed before me but I can’t touch. We were well far away from her former pack, but still far enough to get closer to any other pack bother. We haven’t seen any other sign of living thing apart from our dinner last night.

She tumbled and almost fell on the floor. I moved faster and held her waist, before she fall face flat on the floor. She heaved a deep sigh, “I’m sorry; just too thirsty.”

I nudged her up, “Don’t worry. We’re almost at a stream. I can smell a faint scent of freshness.”

She grumbled, “I can hear footsteps.”

I looked around. There was no one here but we “Are you sure?”

“My sense of hearing is perfect.”

I didn’t have any cause to argue with her, so I nodded. “Okay. We just have to be careful.”

Just then she almost dropped on the floor from fatigue. She forced herself up, “I’ll be okay, when I take a little drop of water.”

But before they could take a step further, they were surrounded.