Mated to Four

Exhausted

Phoebe

"Enough, guys, stop it! Didn’t we call him here to discuss the training schedule?"

Finley stepped in between us, but his gaze avoided mine. He moved to one of the seats and sat down, followed by Adonis, who took the chair opposite him. I heard Hayden scoff as he turned away, while Zion chuckled as if enjoying the show.

I followed Finley's subtle nod towards the seat beside him. Before I could sit, Hayden blocked my way with his body and nodded toward the seat right next to him. His action drew the attention of the other three, who all looked up at him.

I hoped this wouldn’t be the beginning of another one of Hayden’s petty issues. I complied but remained highly cautious, focusing on his every move that might spark an argument with me. My eyes were fixed on his hands.

We began our training. To cover up my awkwardness, I buried myself in my phone. Several times, Hayden growled at me for over-pushing, and after one match ended, he shot me a sharp look.

“Can’t you use your hands properly? You keep getting eliminated.”

“Sorry, I’m just exhausted.”

“We’re done here. Tomorrow, the coach will oversee the training. And you…” Hayden pointed at me, “Go change your clothes because your scent bothers me.”

What did he just say? I didn’t think my sweat smelled bad. Something must be wrong in that guy's head.

Why does he always pick a fight with me? I didn’t ask to sit next to him; he was the one who insisted.

His words made my teeth clench. I wanted to strangle him just to shut him up from saying things that rile me up. Unfortunately, that wicked desire remained only in my mind.

The other three had left the training room, leaving only Adonis, still seated and engrossed in his phone. I let him be, focusing on his activity, while I unplugged the cable from the power outlet under the table. I flinched when I accidentally touched an exposed wire.

"Ouch."

It wasn’t just the shock from the electricity; my head also banged hard against the table. The pain was sharp, and I crouched down, holding my head instinctively.

"Are you okay?" Adonis’s deep voice startled me, causing my head to hit the table a second time.

“Damn! It’s okay, I’m fine.” My hand rubbed my head, prompting Adonis to crouch down in front of me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Here, let me help.”

“No, I can do it myself.”

“You hit your head twice—that’s not fine; you’re exhausted. Let me handle it since I still need to use this room. You should rest.”

For a moment, I stayed silent, listening to him. He adjusted his glasses, reminding me that I wasn’t very good at hiding things. He must have noticed me wince.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everything is in order. Hayden might be strict, but he’s not thorough. He won’t check the room again.”

Adonis seemed to know exactly what I was thinking, speaking up before I could say anything. His neutral attitude left an impression on me.

Something within me felt drawn to him, and I wanted to look into those green eyes behind his glasses longer. If he hadn’t called me Phoenix, I might’ve stood there like a fool.

I nodded, stepping back while keeping my head lowered. Adonis’s attitude made me feel a little more comfortable after my clash with Hayden. My emotions as a woman were taking over, which wouldn’t be good if I couldn’t control them.

"Good night, Mathews."

“Yeah, good night, Adonis.”

I felt more comfortable calling him by his first name. After that, I turned and headed toward my room. Adonis was right; I was genuinely exhausted. My arms felt sore, and I planned to soak them in warm water.

I needed to prepare for 'Hayden’s version of training that won’t make me weak.' He might make the next session even more grueling, so I’d better be ready. While soaking my hands in warm water at the sink, I felt my phone vibrate. A notification from the class group chat caught my attention.

Someone had tagged me, but the screen had already dimmed before I could read it. I let it be for now, enjoying the warmth on my hands. About ten minutes later, I reached for my phone and checked the notification.

I’d missed dozens of messages. Scrolling back to the start where I was tagged, I saw Finley had posted the biology practice group list from the beginning of the semester. Turns out, we were in the same group.

We exchanged messages in the group along with the other group members. I only responded when asked and never initiated a topic because I wasn’t familiar with Phoenix’s past social interactions.

Time passed quickly, and I realized I yawned more than ten times in five minutes. The wall clock read ten o’clock, and I decided to end the chat. After setting an alarm for six a.m., I placed my phone on the bedside table.

At precisely six a.m., I woke up after hitting snooze three times. I tried my best to stick to the schedule Hayden had given yesterday. We were supposed to wake up at six and take turns preparing breakfast for the team.

I got out of bed, freshened up in the bathroom, and felt more awake. I didn’t do my makeup like I used to before going undercover, but I still cherished my lip balm, as my lips always got chapped, especially when exposed to air conditioning frequently.

The alarm signaling us to gather in the training room blared, annoying me even though I was the one who set it. I chuckled at myself. I walked out of my room, turning to close the door.

A voice made me jump, and my hand pressed against my chest. “Morning, Mathews. I like the color.”

Before he could annoy me further, I decided to ignore him. He followed me, walking backward in front of me. I pretended not to see Zion since he was shirtless and wearing shorts.

“What do you want, Glass?”

“To kiss those pink lips.”

“Stop talking nonsense; I still like women. I’m not gay like you.”

“I’m the same as you—I like women. The last woman I kissed was so feisty; now, I’m curious about her.”

“What do you mean?”

Zion’s words made me uncomfortable. His eyes looked hungry, like he wanted to devour me. I stopped walking, glancing left and right to ensure no one was around.

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me? You’re like a braggart selling words for money.”

“You should say that to yourself. I’m no braggart, Mathews. Jeez, it's not fun—you’re too fierce.”

I stood there, stunned as he walked off toward the dining room, processing what he’d said. Did he know my true identity?