Grueling training began the next morning by six a.m.
It was Sunday, and I was supposed to have the weekends to myself, but for some reason, during his trip to Court, something occurred that changed Soren's mind, pushing him into a state of urgency. And in addition to that, a shitty mood.
"Use your fucking legs, Adams," he snarled at me when we crested yet another mile and I was seriously dragging behind. For obvious reasons being that he was a damned Lycan and there was no way in hell that I would ever be able to keep up with him.
My lungs were burning and my vision swam as I tried to suck in a deep breath and failed.
At some point, my body couldn't handle the speed at which he ran and I lurched, throwing up into the shrubs.
Soren stood off to the side, his face twisted with disgust. "Pathetic."
It was no better with Mercer.
