Page 6 of Brutal Reign
Shit, I guess Avery wasn’t exaggerating when she warned me the stakes would be higher than ever at training camp this year.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Madd asks, cocking a brow.
All hell breaks loose as everyone sprints away in a panic, bumping into one another and scattering like mice. Hayden grabs for my hand, yanking me with her toward the track that lines the perimeter of the practice field.
Fuck my life.
I fuckinghaterunning. Weight training, I can do. Hand-to-hand combat? Count me in. But throw some cardio at me and it’s ahardpass. I’d rather chew glass and swallow than run twenty laps around this damn track right now.
Ironically, two laps in, my throat feels a whole lot like I actuallyhaveswallowed shards of glass. It burns with exertion, my lungs heaving from the effort, and by the tenth lap, I’m ready to just collapse on the track and admit defeat. Then a few recruits start to lap me, and it’s the kick in the ass I need to grit my teeth and push on, despite feeling like I’m fucking dying. If I go to hell, though, this is how I’ll be punished for eternity– withrunning.
When I finally complete my twentieth lap around the track of doom, it’s a miracle I haven’t dropped dead. I’m sweaty and hyperventilating; my leg muscles are jelly. Madd and Avery share a laugh at my expense as they give me the nod to go grab a bunk, and I flip my cousins the bird as I make my way past them and over to the side of the building to grab my duffel.
At least I made it. And by the skin of my teeth, judging by the looks of things when I push through the doors of the squadcomplex and turn left to enter the recruit barracks. It’s a flurry of activity inside, more than half of my peers already staking their claims on the rows of bunks inside the large room.
“Saved you a bunk, Riv,” Jake Decker drawls, stepping out from between a pair of them right by the door, as if he’s been waiting for me to appear.
I snap my head his way, raising a forearm to wipe sweat from my brow. Jake’s the son of my dad’s Beta, but we’ve never been particularly close. Unlike most other packs, our Beta’s family doesn’t reside in the packhouse, and the two of us just never had much in common. It’s sweet that he’s looking out for me here at training camp, and it definitely bodes well for the two of us working together as Alpha and Beta someday… but that doesn’t mean I wanna bunk with the guy.
“Jake,” I breathe, still panting from that horrendous run. “I, uh…”
A flash of lilac catches my eye, and I glance past him to see Hayden waving her arms at the back of the room, beckoning me over.
“Looks like Hayden already grabbed me one,” I say, forcing a polite smile to my lips. “Thanks, though!”
Dodging past Jake before he can reply, I make a beeline down the aisle of bunks toward my friend, thankful as fuck she just saved me from that awkward interaction.
When Seb and Ace dropped me a few years ago, Hayden picked me up. She randomly sat down at my study table in the school library one day and asked what song I was listening to through my headphones. We chatted about music, and by the time I left, I’d officially made my first female friend outside of the Alpha kids. The two of us just clicked.
Strangely enough, we couldn’t be more different. Hayden likes reading celebrity gossip rags and getting all dolled up, while I prefer tinkering with my motorcycle’s engine andwearing ripped-up band tees. Still, it somehow works. We’re yin and yang.
“Do you want top or bottom?” Hayden asks as I approach, grimacing as she takes in my haggard appearance. “Jesus, Riv, what’d I tell you about working on your cardio?”
“Top,” I croak out, sliding my duffel off my shoulder. Moving past her, I heave my bag over my head, slinging it up onto the top bunk.
Good thing Hayden’s a decent runner, because she secured us a prime spot in the barracks. Our bunk is all the way at the end of a row, tucked in a corner.
“You’re a freak of nature, you know that?” Hayden chastises, leaning a hip against the metal frame of the bunkbed as she watches me wilt onto the lower mattress. “I’ve never met anyone as fit as you who can’t run. I mean seriously, how can you run circles around people while you’re sparring but barely jog a mile on the track before needing a rescue inhaler?”
“Sparring’s different,” I grumble, curling forward to rest my elbows on my numb thighs.
“She’s got a point,” a male voice interjects, and I turn to see a toned guy with strawberry-blonde hair poking his head out from behind the end of the neighboring bunk, where he’s unpacking his things into the cubby. “There’s a big difference between sprints and endurance running.”
“This is Gus,” Hayden supplies, throwing a thumb in his direction.
He steps around the end of the bunk and moves toward me, wiping his palms off on his athletic shorts before extending one in my direction. “August Atwood,” he greets, flashing me a wide grin.
I weakly lift a hand, placing it in his. “River Jacobsen.”
“Oh I know who you are,” he sing-songs, winking at me as he backs away to resume unpacking. “Alpha Theo’s daughter, right?”
“You must have me confused with someone else,” I mutter.
Hayden rolls her eyes, pushing off from our bunk and kicking my foot as she passes by me to get to her suitcases lined up near the end of the bed. Becauseof courseHayden Price packed for training camp like she was embarking on an elaborate, two-month vacation.
“Don’t mind Riv, she’s a sarcastic bitch when she’s forced to do cardio,” she quips, tossing me a wink as she grabs for the handle of a suitcase.
I make a face at her before flopping backwards on the bed with a groan.