29: Emma

As he regained his feet, I became acutely aware of Theo watching us, his amber eyes intent in a way that made my skin prickle with awareness. The mate bond, still new and raw, seemed to hum between us despite the distance. Artemis pressed forward again, broadcasting her approval of her mate's presence with embarrassing enthusiasm.

‘He saw our strength,’ she purred, practically preening. ‘He saw us win.’

"Shut up," I muttered under my breath, but I couldn't entirely suppress the warmth that spread through me at the thought.

Sweat dampened my skin, my breathing quick but controlled after the brief exertion. Around us, the gathered werewolves shifted and murmured, their collective scent a mixture of surprise and admiration with undercurrents of curiosity. I felt Theo's gaze on me like a physical touch, warm and intent in a way that made Artemis preen inside me, pushing against my consciousness with shameless enthusiasm. His scent – cedar and stone, honey and lightning – cut through all others, growing stronger as he and Christian approached the edge of the training mat.

I forced my attention back to Elijah, who was brushing off his training pants with exaggerated dignity. "You telegraphed that last feint," I told him quietly. "I saw it coming from three moves away."

"Noted," he replied, rolling his shoulder where it had hit the mat. "Though I doubt it would have mattered. You were moving faster than usual."

Before I could respond, Elena joined us on the mat, her eyes bright with amusement. "That," she declared, "was worth the price of admission." She held out her container. "Popcorn?"

I laughed despite my heightened awareness of Theo's approach, taking a handful of the offered snack. "You're a terrible mate," I told her. "Bringing refreshments to watch him get taken down."

"On the contrary," she replied with a grin, "I'm an excellent mate. I'm helping him improve by supporting his training partner."

Elijah shook his head, but his smile belied any offense. "You could at least pretend to believe I might win someday."

"I believe in miracles," Elena assured him, patting his cheek affectionately. "Just not impossible ones."

The lighthearted exchange helped centre me as Theo and Christian reached the edge of the mat. Up close, even in casual clothes – dark jeans and a simple gray t-shirt that somehow managed to look regal – Theo's presence was overwhelming. His amber eyes met mine, and that now-familiar jolt passed between us, the mate bond humming with recognition. Artemis surged forward so powerfully that I had to exert conscious control to prevent my eyes from shifting to her yellow-green.

"Impressive technique," Christian said, breaking the charged silence. His gray eyes assessed me with that analytical gaze I remembered from breakfast. "I've rarely seen someone your size take down an opponent so efficiently."

"My size has nothing to do with it," I replied, more sharply than I'd intended. Size comments about female fighters were a particular irritant.

Christian raised an eyebrow, but his lips curled in what might have been appreciation rather than offense. "Clearly," he agreed. "It's your technique and timing. The way you used his momentum against him was particularly effective."

I relaxed slightly, recognizing the genuine complement beneath his clinical observation. "Thank you."

"I'd be interested to see how you'd fare against a Lycan opponent," he continued, his tone conversational though his eyes remained keenly observant. "The difference in structure creates interesting tactical considerations."

"My brother means to say he's impressed," Theo interjected, his voice carrying that subtle accent that somehow made ordinary words sound like music. "As am I. Your control is exceptional."

The simple praise shouldn't have affected me as it did – a flush of warmth that had nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do with the man delivering it. Artemis practically purred within me.

"Emma's been training warriors for years," Elijah said, pride evident in his voice. "She redesigned our entire combat program after returning to Blood Moon."

I shot him a warning glance, wary of how much personal information he was sharing, but it was too late. Christian's eyes sharpened with interest at the reference to my "return," though he thankfully didn't pursue it.

"We don't get many opportunities to train with Lycans," I said, deliberately redirecting the conversation. "The physiological differences require adapting techniques."

"A diplomatic way of saying we're at a disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat with Lycans," Elijah added, his tone light but the observation serious. "Greater reach, height, and upper body strength creates an uneven playing field."

"Not necessarily," I countered. "Those advantages come with drawbacks – larger mass means slower directional changes. Longer limbs create more leverage points. Every physical advantage has a corresponding vulnerability."