Page 12 of Brutal Alpha’s Sold Mate (Starfire Hollow Alphas #4)

I’m going to hurl if one more person gives me that pitying look.

That’s the thought blazing through my mind when I yank open the cabin door, determined to ignore the shame that’s gnawing at me after admitting I’ve been poisoned.

My wolf is half-asleep in my chest, and I’m furious at the reminder that I can’t just bounce back to full strength.

Inside, I find Theo rummaging through a stack of papers on the table. He straightens when he sees me. “I have news. I’ve been digging around for a remedy.”

I close the door behind me. “That so?”

He lifts a notebook as if it’s proof. “I’m talking to people who know about Malcolm and Wiley’s dealings. Some of them claim to also have knowledge about herbs and potions that might undo what they did to you.”

Something flutters in my chest. I clamp it down. “You’re sure you’re not just saying that to make yourself look noble? Because I can do without any false hope.”

He scowls a bit, but there’s no real bite in his voice when he says, “I’m not exactly known for empty words.”

My nails tap the side of my leg. “If you’re serious, then I guess I should thank you,” I manage, though the words taste strange on my tongue.

He glances at me with something like relief. “You don’t need to thank me. Just… trust that I’m trying.”

Trust? That’s pushing it. He doesn’t realize I have one foot out the door, mentally planning how I’ll bolt from this territory if I ever get my wolf back.

Still, I make myself nod. “Let me know when you have something concrete.”

He sets the notebook aside and exhales. “In the meantime, you should keep training. Staying idle won’t help if you want your strength back.”

That’s exactly what I’ve been hoping to hear. “You’re giving me permission, or did you think I was going to wait for an invitation?”

A half-smile tugs at his mouth. “I’m just confirming you’re free to do what you want, as long as it doesn’t involve messing with my territory lines or running headfirst into one of my brothers. If you need more lessons, I’m around.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Then I march upstairs, ignoring the odd sensation behind my sternum at his uncharacteristic show of concern.

***

The next day, I sneak out early, aiming to avoid too many onlookers.

My plan is to find a spot behind the main collection of cabins, someplace quiet and out of the way.

I want to drill those footwork exercises until they feel natural again, but I also want to gauge whether any other shifters might be open to training with me.

My conversation with a few younger wolves last night was enlightening: half of them have never been taught more than the bare minimum of combat. And some of the women? They’re stuck at home, never included in border patrol or pack defenses.

I find an open stretch near a half-built wooden fence. It’s secluded enough that we won’t draw a crowd if we make a commotion. Then I catch sight of two teenage girls lingering nearby with curious expressions.

“You two,” I call out, beckoning them over. “Ever throw a punch before?”

They shake their heads in unison. One fiddles with the hem of her shirt, and the other stands with her arms crossed. They look intrigued but uncertain. Perfect.

“Want to learn? Or do you plan to wait until trouble shows up, then scream for help?” I keep my tone light but pointed, glancing back and forth to gauge their reaction.

The one with crossed arms lifts her chin. “I’m not scared. I’d train if someone showed me how, Luna.”

“Just call me Kai.” I point at a wide, level patch of dirt. “Stand here.”

Soon enough, a few more stragglers arrive: some younger boys, a middle-aged woman who looks half-embarrassed to be seen, and one older teen who clearly snuck away from chores. They gather in a small cluster, exchanging skeptical glances.

“All right,” I begin, turning to face them.

“Let’s be clear: I’m not offering official pack lessons.

This is off the record. If you can’t commit to keeping this between us, go home.

If your higher-ups wanted you to learn this stuff, they would’ve taught you by now.

I don’t care to get caught up in their crossfire, but I do think this is what’s best for all of you, individually and as a pack. ”

Nobody moves. Good.

I start with the basics: posture, keeping a balanced stance, arms up, fists ready. I demonstrate a simple jab, then have them do it. Some are timid, others too eager. The girl who first spoke up tries punching like she’s swatting a bee.

I circle them, adjusting elbows, telling them to breathe through the motion, to follow through.

My wolf stirs a bit in my chest, pleased that I can pass on what I know, even if I’m not at my strongest. A pang of longing hits me, recalling how back in my old pack, I taught new recruits whenever I got the chance.

But that’s a memory I bury fast. I’m not ready to share my full story here.

One of the women steps aside, looking flushed. “I feel silly. What if my husband finds out I’m doing this?”

I tilt my head. “What if he does? You have the right to defend yourself. Are you going to let a spouse decide whether you’re allowed to protect your life?”

She purses her lips, then nods slowly. “Guess not.”

We continue. After a while, I notice they’re all sweating, and their limbs are trembling from the unfamiliar use of muscles. I stop them, offering a grin.

“Not bad for your first day. Come back tomorrow at the same time, and we’ll add footwork.”

They disperse, still chatting among themselves. That weird flutter of pride warms my stomach. I’m not here to save the world, but teaching them makes me feel useful. And a little less alone.

***

By midweek, word has spread that I’m giving lessons.

More people appear, including a few who are older.

A couple of moms are bringing teenage kids, and there’s even a father with a shy daughter.

It’s funny how quickly they crowd into the space once they realize I won’t bite their heads off.

I keep the sessions simple: jabs, hooks, front kicks, and some dodging techniques.

A lot of them have never thrown a punch in their lives.

My greatest challenge is to keep these lessons hidden from Reed or Jacob’s minions.

I don’t want to incite more drama. I’m still determined to stay out of the sibling feud.

This is purely for self-defense, nothing else.

If Theo finds out, maybe he’ll blow a gasket, but he said I’m free to do what I want.

Hopefully, that includes teaching half the pack to protect themselves.

I’m drilling a small group on blocking combos, showing them how to keep their arms up, when a deep voice behind me says, “You’ve got quite the class here.”

A jolt of alarm zips through me. I turn to find Theo standing with his hands at his sides, observing the group. My heart thumps for a second. I’m ready for him to frown, lecture me, or worse.

Instead, he nods at the ragtag bunch. “You folks practicing counters?”

A few of them nod, suddenly nervous in the presence of the so-called future alpha.

I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you doing here?”

He steps forward, observing their stances. “I heard rumors that someone was teaching self-defense classes. Didn’t realize it was you. Thought I’d check it out.”

I cross my arms. “And?”

He shrugs. “Seems like a good idea, given how many untrained shifters we have.”

Not the reaction I expected. “You’re not upset?”

He meets my gaze. “Why would I be? Strengthening the pack is part of our survival. The only reason they haven’t been trained so far is because my father was too concerned about someone getting stupid ideas about usurping him.”

The watchers behind me shuffle, surprised by his calm tone. I’m still suspicious. “So, you’re not here to shut me down?”

He shakes his head. “No. Let me help.”

That leaves me speechless for a second. Then I wave him over. “Fine. We’re working on blocks.”

He moves among them, demonstrating how to angle an arm for maximum protection. He’s direct but not condescending, correcting people with efficient pointers. I study him, startled at how gently he handles them. The stern alpha melts away, replaced by a patient teacher.

During a short break, he looks at me. “You do a decent job of explaining technique. You said you picked it up in your old pack?”

I swallow hard, recalling his question. I’m not ready to tell him who I really am: the sister of an influential beta in East Hills, the fighter who’s known for taking down rogues with ease. The orphan who had to learn to take care of herself much too young if she wanted to survive in this world.

“I’ve studied here and there,” I answer vaguely, focusing on the ground. “You can learn a lot if you keep your ears open.”

“Well, you’ve got skill. They listen to you.”

The group regathers, curious about what we’re whispering. I clear my throat. “All right, back in position. Theo, you want to handle the next part?”

He nods and addresses them with authority. “Pairs of two. One partner jabs, the other blocks. Practice that for five reps, then switch.”

They scramble to obey, excited to train with the man they suspect will be their future alpha. I step back, let him lead for a while, and observe. A comfortable rhythm settles over us, like we’re working together without the usual tension that’s followed us since the day Theo “acquired” me.

Toward the end, one young wolf runs up and curls his arms to make muscles. “That was amazing, Kai! I feel stronger already.”

I ruffle his hair and giggle. “Glad you got something out of it. Keep practicing and come back tomorrow.”

As the session winds down, Theo helps me demonstrate a final sequence, a quick combination of strike, dodge, and counter.

My chest flutters again at the shift in his demeanor.

He’s not scowling or barking orders. He’s encouraging them, praising their attempts, shaking his head in amusement when they flub up a move.

Even my wolf, half-subdued as she is, seems to appreciate the moment.

When it’s finished, the group disperses, with several of them thanking both of us as they leave. I linger, tidying up the scattered supplies—a few wooden practice staves and rags for wiping sweat. Theo drifts closer, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“You’re good at that,” he remarks.

I glance over, feeling a small tug in my chest. “I used to teach more advanced moves to… some friends.” My voice wobbles, but I disguise it with a cough.

He lowers his gaze to the staves. “Friends, huh?”

“They were interested in self-defense, so I showed them a few tricks.”

He picks up one of the staves and turns it over in his hands. “Must’ve been serious if you got this skilled.”

I shrug. “What can I say? I like to keep a collection of skills in my arsenal.”

He sets the stake back down. “Well, I don’t want to pry if you’re not ready to talk about your old pack. But thanks for doing this for our people. It might save lives someday.”

“I’m not doing it for the pack,” I counter. “I’m doing it for them—the women and younger wolves who never got a chance to learn.”

“Same thing,” he replies. “They’re part of my pack.”

I give a dismissive snort. “Don’t read too much into it. I’m not signing up to be your second-in-command.”

“I never asked you to.” He lets out a small chuckle. “But if you keep going like this, you’ll be more popular with our people than I am.”

I roll my eyes, though it’s more playful than annoyed. “Right. Should I expect to be crowned soon?”

He tilts his head in mock thought. “Wouldn’t put it past them to start bowing in your presence.”

Despite myself, I laugh. It’s a short burst, but it feels genuine. He smiles at me, and I catch an odd change in his expression, like he’s glad he made me laugh. My chest tightens at the realization that I’m letting my guard down with him, even if it’s just an inch.

I break the moment by grabbing the staves. “Anyway, guess we’ll do more tomorrow. I don’t want them to be too sore to show up.”

“I’ll be there.” He waits a beat. “If that’s okay with you.”

Strange how the man who once pinned me to the ground without apology is now asking permission. I slide him a sidelong look. “Fine. You can show them some grappling moves.”

“Deal.” He turns to go, then glances over his shoulder. “Kai?”

I pause, hugging the staves against me. “What?”

“I know I’m not your favorite person right now, but I’m glad you’re not letting your situation stop you.”

My throat feels tight. I look away. “It’ll take more than a stupid potion to break me.”

He nods, then heads off, leaving me alone with thoughts I’m not ready to process.

I stare after him, wrestling with this surge of complicated feelings.

I’m supposed to be planning my escape, waiting for the day my wolf recovers.

Yet, here I am, forging connections, teaching people, sharing a laugh with the man I swore I’d never trust.

Frustration flares in me, but it’s tangled with a sense of… belonging? I tell myself not to get too comfortable. Theo’s help doesn’t erase the fact that he bought me. And my own mission—freeing myself from this entire situation—still stands.

Still, as I trudge back to the cabin, I can’t ignore the strange little spark of pride at having done something worthwhile for these folks.

I’ve spent weeks gritting my teeth, hating my weakened wolf, feeling trapped.

But there’s a new thread of hope weaving through my day-to-day life.

Maybe if I keep teaching them, I’ll find a way to become stronger, too.

Strong enough to call my own shots, with or without Theo’s cure.

When I reach the cabin, I pause at the threshold, replaying the scene of me and Theo guiding the others through each punch and block.

My instincts warn me it’s dangerous to let my guard down.

But for the first time in a while, I feel like I’m making progress.

Not just in my training, but in carving out a space for myself in this pack, however temporarily.

As I nudge the door open, my mind is already churning with tomorrow’s lesson plan.

If I have to bide my time here, I might as well teach these people how to defend themselves.

Maybe it’s the best way to ensure that when I finally break free, I leave them with a little piece of strength they never had before.

And maybe I’ll gain enough of my own strength to keep from looking back.