Her Shadows

7 - Go Out With Me

NATALIA

“He is just so,” punch, “damn,” punch, “infuriating!” I throw everything into a right hook, but it loses momentum before Sam even blocks it. He ducks instead, easily evading my slow hit. Hunching over, I press my palms firmly into my thighs, and take small sharp breaths. Gentle hands lightly press into my sides. I try not to, but when he probes at a spot that is still a little sensitive, I wince.

“You’ve been training for hours, Nat. You just got out of bed today. We shouldn’t have even let you train at all, let alone all morning,” Jonah’s calm voice lightly chastises.

“I needed to let out some steam,” I grate out. He hums and helps me stand. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he directs me outside of the training circle to sit us down on the grass. The moment I sit down, Sam is already there with a bottle of water. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Drink, Natalia.”

“You guys are treating me like an invalid,” I mutter, swiping the bottle from his hand and gulping it down. Sam kisses me on the forehead while Jonah rubs a thumb in soothing circles on my waist.

I was on mandatory bed rest for almost three whole days. Last night, Alex finally said I could get up today as long as I don’t leave the grounds. I took that to my advantage and was out here in the training circle at four in the morning. Sam and Jonah joined me around six, about half an hour ago. They argued about fighting with me, they can tell I still ache in some spots, but Sam finally caved to do some basic sparring.

I have to admit that I am a little winded though.

“What exactly happened with Max?” Jonah asks.

“Besides him beating Cody to hell,” Sam quips.

“Which we haven’t gotten the whole story behind, by the way.”

They both look at me with pointed stares; green and brown eyes waiting for details. I groan, rolling my eyes. My two best friends can be pieces of work.

“Fine. But you guys spar while I talk. I will take out my feelings vicariously through you.” They both smirk and Sam rolls his eyes. They move away from me, slipping from their shirts as they step back into the circle. I wait a moment for them to warm up and circle each other. I sigh.

“Max beat up Cody because he attempted to assault me on the way home,” I start. I continue on, starting at the first comment and pausing once I made it to the living room. It’s easy to tell when they get upset because their fighting style changes. Sam gets more aggressive while Jonah gets faster, more fluid in his movements.

“I’m going to beat his ass!” Jonah snarls as he spars with Sam.

“You should have listened that night,” Ivy chides again. I ignore her even though I know she’s right. I still feel stupid for having gone, but my stubbornness wouldn’t let me do anything else.

“You’ll have to get in line,” Sam chuckles while landing a punch to Jonah’s chin. They both stop for a minute to regroup. “All of us are waiting for a piece of him.”

“I think enough pieces were taken,” I tell them, rolling my eyes. Jonah gives me a confused look, so Sam clarifies.

“By the time I got down the stairs, my brother was pulling Cody’s limp body from the room while the twins held Max back,” he says. I scrunch up my nose, not happy about being reminded of that visual. Jonah just nods as though that alone is enough for him to ease up on some of his anger.

“What happened after?” he asks, lining back up to continue sparring.

“I was sent to bed and tried to sleep,” I continue, telling them the rest of the story from after the fight. I choke up some when I talk about him leaving. Thankfully, that’s the end. They stop when I do; both of them breathing hard.

Sam paces a moment, chest heaving and fists clenched. Jonah just stands still, lip between his teeth and eyes narrowed in contemplation. Both of my guys calming down and digesting the information in their own ways. I lean back on my elbows, patiently waiting for them to be ready to talk it out. Sam eventually stops in front of me.

“I mean,” he runs a hand through his hair, “I get why his wolf would act up,” he finally says, shrugging a shoulder slightly.

“What? Why?” Turning to Sam, Jonah’s face contorts from contemplation to confusion. Sometimes I forget that that he has only been a wolf for, like, a month.

“Because his mate was, A, on a date, B, attacked, and, C, he wasn’t there to protect her. It's completely primal instinct that Blue— his wolf— would want to mark her. It connects them and tells other males that she is off limits.”

“Then why didn’t he?” Jonah demands.

“He’s scared,” I sigh. Sam looks at me sadly. “I just don’t understand.”

“I say screw him,” Jonah suddenly blurts.

“What?”

“Excuse me?” Sam and I ask simultaneously. Jonah’s shoulders tense, his brown eyes intent on mine.

“Screw him. He won't acknowledge what is right in front of him? He runs after making a blatant proposition knowing your feelings. It's entirely coquettish. His ambivalence and tepid unreliability does not bode for stability! Screw. Him.”

“What do you propose I do then, Jonah?” I challenge.

“And use smaller words for us non-linguistive brainiacs,” Sam teases. Jonah ignores the jibe, continuing to stare at me. He tilts his head, and smiles.

“Go out with me.”