For those who know him, you can maybe cast Ezra as Omar Borkan Al Gala 'cause Ezra is half-Saudi Arabian.

PICTURE BELOW:

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DEDICATED TO Nichellevondel.

Chapter 10 - "She Blushes."

"Oompf!" I cry out, just as my back hits the gym mat with a thud.

Physical Strength is very important, I'd been told. And that was going to be the first step to make me stronger, I'd decided.

With that in mind, I'd gone to bed early the previous night and had been set on going to sleep alone, because, come on, expecting Seneca to come again is just wishful thinking. And I don't have enough guts to go to her room when she'd clearly ordered me not to, on the eve of my arrival. I'd tossed and turned till eleven when my door opened and she'd come in and slid next to me. When I'd looked at her; whether in surprise or smugness I don't know, she'd turned up her defensiveness a notch and said,

"What? I said you're not allowed to come to my room. I can come here. Just go to sleep."

I'd wanted to point out that if she wants to sleep with me—only sleep—all she had to do was ask, and I won't say a thing, but I'd kept my thoughts to myself and drifted away into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning when I'd woken up, she was gone, and Beta Ezra was banging on my door, saying that Seneca was waiting for me at the gym, for training.

But, when I envisioned training, I did not envision this.

And I definitely didn't envision Seneca standing in front of me in a loose tee, shorts, and running shoes, the wild mass of fiery curls gathered in a tight ponytail, with a strand not out of place, looking like she just got ready, while I get beaten the shit out of me at 5 am in the morning.

No. Definitely not this.

"I can't do this anymore,"

You would expect that it was me who said this, but to all of our surprises, it isn't. It's my statuesque looking Mate.

"W-why?" I moan, rubbing my aching forearms — which I was told to use to defend punches, and failed miserably — as I slowly sit up, pushing my glasses up my nose.

She averts her eyes from my questioning ones, crossing her arms.

"I just can't." She says dismissively, and her chin juts out as she clenches her jaw.

"P-please?" I ask with a hopeful expression, and her eyes flicker to my face just for a second, before darting away. But in that little second, I think I saw pain flash in her eyes.

There you go again, Micajah. Seeing too much into things.

"Don't make me do what I don't want to, Cage." She says firmly, still not looking at me. I almost pout, before something else strikes me.

"Um, You do k-know that my name is Micajah, R-Right?" I wonder, looking at her with curiosity. That makes her glance at me another millisecond, and this time a small smile tugs at her lips, making my heart jump in my chest.

Woah, She's so beautiful.

Almost too beautiful for my mortal eyes.

'And she's all Mine,' My Wolf boasts out of nowhere, surprising me.

'Ours,' I snap, and I can feel his assertion in the back of my mind.

"I do," She says, pulling me out of my inner war. I stare in confusion, scrunching my brows together.

"B-but, why...?"

"Because," She says, avoiding the question. I chew my upper lip, feeling conflicted. But then, I nod anyway, acting as if it's all settled, while in truth, I'm dying with curiosity.

I bend down and stare at my bruised hands, and this reminds me of my earlier conversation.

"W-what shall I do now, t-then?" I ask, giving her the puppy dog eyes. She instantly looks away once again, and I mentally curse her ability to resist her Mate so easily.

Well, I guess there's nothing there to resist.

'Be optimistic,' My Wolf advises, empathizing with me.

Seneca looks thoughtful for a while before her expression turns to one of decisiveness, and she finally locks her granite eyes with me.

"Ezra will do it," She declares, and all the cells in my body tense up at the sound of his name.

"B-but —" I start to protest when I'm cut off.

"You don't like him," It's not a question, but I answer anyway.

"W-What? No! I mean, Y-Yes! I do!" I exclaim, shaking my head furiously.

"What did he do?" She asks, ignoring my protests. Her jaw clinches and her fists tighten, as she stares at me with flaring eyes, daring me to not answer.

"He d-didn't do anything," I say defensively, crossing my arms across my sweat-drenched t-shirt, looking away from her.

Where is all this coming from, and why am I defending him anyway?

"What. Did. He. Do. Cage?" She bites out, glowering outright.

I glower back, pursing my lips. "Nothing. I w-won't tell as long as you don't tell me why you won't train me, Alpha," I taunt, stuttering slightly with my fake bravado. Her eyes morph blue for a second, and I gulp down the fear gripping my throat as she struggles to keep her animal at bay.

"Fine! You are my Mate, Cage. My Soul Mate. The Gift from the Goddess. Every instinct in my body screams to protect you and shield you from my enemies. I can't and won't be the one to beat you up. Every time you fall down, it hurts me more than it does you." She glares, the deep frown scrunching the soft skin on her forehead. Her words slowly sink in, and my mind processes her words for a solid two seconds before I understand them.

She hurts when I'm hurt . . .

The biggest grin splits my face, and I pinch myself once, twice, assuring myself that this isn't a dream.

It isn't!

My heart gallops in happiness, and a light, airy feeling takes over my body. It feels like I weigh nothing. I resist the childish urge to jump around and whoop in happiness, controlling my outburst to just a huge smile.

I want to ask her if it's true, if she really feels that way, but I know that doing that is just pushing my luck. So I accept it, willing to believe it and be happy even if it's a lie.

The glare slowly melts off Seneca's face, as her eyes roam over my beaming expression, softening slightly.

"What did he do?" She repeats, and I stop smiling. I cough and clear my throat awkwardly, feeling like the annoying kid in class that always complains about everything to the teacher.

"L-Let's just say, He w-was um, concerned about you." I answer evasively, unwilling to tell on him.

"That little shit," Seneca curses under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear. I grin in amusement, watching her fume in annoyance.

"Ezra!" Seneca calls out, her voice not higher than the tone one would use to converse with a person in the same room. But, being the powerful Beta he is, I guess Beta Ezra would've definitely heard.

True to my assumption, the private gym's — a room in the west wing of the mansion — industrial steel doors swing open, and Beta Ezra strides in wearing casual attire — maybe everyone is an early riser here — whistling coolly with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

"Yes, Alpha? I pray ask why didst thy request-st my highly presence?" He jokes, making me crack a grin. Seneca, on the other hand, doesn't move an inch, looking at him flatly.

I assume they are chatting through the mind link because surprise crosses Beta Ezra's features as he glances at me and shrugs indifferently. Then they stare at each other hotly, before Beta Ezra gives in, looking down.

Seneca—looking mildly victorious—walks over to the leather benches sitting close to the white colored walls. She perches on one of them with the elegance of a queen, and crosses her mile-long leg at the knees, resting her hands atop them.

"I want you to be the one to train Cage," Seneca orders, and Beta Ezra stares at her in open surprise.

"Me?! Why not you?!" He cries, glancing at me for a second.

"I just do. Don't question it. Now begin." She commands, looking bored.

Beta Ezra gapes at her and then turns to me, then looks at her again and at me. He shakes his head as if to say, 'Kids these days,' and then pulls off his shirt in a sudden motion, throwing it somewhere.

I wonder when I'll be confident enough to do that . . .

Even though my Wolf and I don't like the prospect of my Mate staring at another UnMated male who's half-naked, I ignore that feeling, convincing myself that she would've seen a lot more than his bare chest before.

At least, while shifting.

Or . . .

No, don't go there.

"Okay. Let's do this shit," Beta Ezra says, clapping his hands twice. I square my shoulders, getting ready for the fight of my life.

Let's do this.

⎃ ⎃ ⎃

Half an hour later, I'm lying flat on my back, breathing hard, sweat coating every part of visible skin.

"C'mon Aleph boy! Get up and fight me!" Beta Ezra yells, standing above me with an annoyed look.

"I..." pant, "I, c-can't." I breathe out, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.

"You can't?! Listen here Aleph boy, the moment Alpha handed over the responsibility of training you to me, I've become your Teacher. And when it comes to training, you won't disobey me. Stand up, Now." He demands, looking serious and strict. Gone is the playful Beta and Alpha's best friend. In his place is this grumpy Beta and bossy teacher.

I grumble under my breath and push myself off the ground, slowly standing up. I chance a look at Seneca, only to find her seated in the same place, staring at us with an emotionless face, unmoving. I try to shake the fatigue off, as I position myself in the posture I'd been taught, legs apart, shoulders back and arms out in defense.

He swings out in a punch and I slap his hands away, just before he could gut me. He groans in frustration and throws his hands up, fisting them and punching the air in anger.

"That's not what I told you to do! You don't slap away a punch, you block it! Uh! Okay, you know what, this isn't working. Let's try something different. You punch me, and I block you. Alright? Now, c'mon, go for it." He says, nodding to himself and getting into the stance.

I sigh tiredly, and straighten up, fisting my fingers. I tense the muscles coiling around my arms, and I exhale, throwing a half-hearted punch. Beta Ezra's hand shoots out and grabs ahold of my fist stopping me from punching him, and he uses his other hand to change the angle of my arm.

"Not like this. Like this. Now, again." He says, moving back to position and I take a swing again.

My fist connects with his steel-like forearms, and I cover my aching fingers with my free hand, yelping.

"I'm s-sorry," I mumble and go for his nose, but his arm blocks me yet again, making my attempt at a punch, futile.

"Ugh!" I sigh, feeling defeated. At this rate, I don't think I would ever learn to punch properly. I mumble unintelligibly under my breath, heaving another sigh.

"What are you doing, man? Stop giving me that look. If you are going to give up that easily, you might as well not try at all." Beta Ezra mocks, shaking his head. He plops on the ground with a sigh, bending and putting his head between his knees. He links his fingers on the back of his head, massaging his neck. He rotates his head, removing kinks. I decide that since he's taking a break, I might do the same as well, and am about to sit down when Beta Ezra jumps to a stand with a whoop.

"I got it! I know what went wrong! You—" He points a finger at me "—are lacking emotion. You have to be determined, you have to be fueled by a strong drive to achieve something, in order to do it. And, you're not doing it." He points, smiling.

I stare at him with raised brows, wondering what might be the reason for smiling while calling me out on my cowardice.

"I know what you have to do." He says, excitedly walking forward and halting before me. "You have to think about Chance Parker. You have to channelize all the anger you feel and throw it in a punch."

"Um, w-what?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"Think about him. About his ugly face and cruel act. Think about all the times he'd insulted you, hurt you—" he continues, and my anger rises a notch with every word coming out of his mouth —"Now focus on it, and punch me."

I grit my teeth and my fingers curl automatically and before I know it, I'm rushing forward and punching him with all my might.

Guess what happened?

He caught it.

Again.

Damnit.

"Try again."

I do.

But I don't succeed.

"Again. More Force this time."

And like this, it goes on for seven or eight times.

"Nope. Not enough. You need something else . . . Something more . . . " He loosens the grip on my hand, letting his shoulders sag. "Something . . . Something like . . ." He leaves my arm and looks around the room as if wanting an inspiration. His eyes fall on Seneca who's been sitting silently without uttering a word the whole time, and just like that, they light up again. "Yes!"

He rushes forward to her side, taking long steps quickly. He stops in front of her, making her look at him in confusion, while he just smiles his enthusiastic grin. He turns to me and smiles cryptically, and places his hands on Seneca's shoulders, his chest rising in a deep breath.

"Please don't kill me."

And then he leaned forward, connecting his lips with hers.

It takes me a second to realize that he's actually kissing her!

Seneca is sitting frozen in shock and in that infinite second, something in my soul pops like a soap bubble, unleashing anger and emotion locked inside me under years of emotional torment and self-preservation, like a dam of water breaking out in a flood.

Red fills my vision at the sight, and with a mighty roar, my Wolf surfaces past my barriers, propelling me forward, declaring, "Mine!". I don't know what exactly happened, but one second I'm paralyzed with shock, and the next second I'm grabbing Beta Ezra by his shoulder, slamming my fist into his pretty face with reckless abandon.

"Ow!" He exclaims, hunching forward and clutching his nose—which is oozing red liquid by the way. I score a few nice hits and move forward to hit him again, when another ferocious growl breaks through the air, freezing me. The dominating power rolling off the Alpha Wolf immediately snuffs out my anger like a candle against the wind, forcing my Wolf to submit. I turn around to see Seneca's eyes turned completely blue, the oceanic currents in them splashing against her rock hard irises. She looks absolutely livid, breathing hard and lips twisted into a furious scowl, exposing her extended canines.

Beta Ezra stops coughing to observe her cautiously, while my Mate looks like the picture of Anger. If steam could come out of a person's ears, it would've come out of hers.

"Fucking Ezra! I will not consider it as my first kiss!" She says, and even though her voice is low, it feels like she's yelling due to the power emanating from it. Now, I'll sit back and enjoy the show. She'll dish out what he deserves —

Wait, what?!

That was her first kiss?!

"That was your first kiss?!" Beta Ezra and I chorus, exclaiming in shock.

All anger drains and she has the 'dear-caught-in-the-headlights' look for a second, and then something happens.

She blushes!

Pink suffuses her creamy cheeks, making her look absolutely adorable.

She then storms out of the room, making me burst into laughter.

⎃ ⎃ ⎃

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