Fated By Starlight by Krista Street

Chapter 21

~ AVERY ~

I hurried back to my apartment, my arms wrapped around my chest as I desperately wished for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

Wyatt had just rejected me—fully and completely rejected me.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have actually believed that he cared for me?

I’m such an idiot!

I bit my lip and rethought the details of Saturday night. Obviously, I’d embellished things. I scoffed. Or perhaps the truth was that I’d fabricated everything.

I scrunched my eyes together as mortification flowed hotly through my veins.

I will never be able to look him in the eye again.

My mind transported back to high school, when I’d secretly crushed on him as every other girl in our school tried to catch his attention too.

Shame filled me as I came to see Saturday night in an entirely new light.

Nothing had changed.

Absolutely nothing.

I would never be good enough for Wyatt, worthy of him, someone who he would consider an equal.

He had once been the unattainable golden boy of his pack, only now his status had risen so much higher since he was also a respected and high-standing commander in the SF.

And who was I? A barely magical ambassador recruit who would have never qualified to be admitted into the SF as permanent staff. I probably wouldn’t even qualify for their cleaning team, so why did I think one of their strongest members would want me in return?

Embarrassment flamed my cheeks as every insecurity I’d ever felt came roaring back.

In the distance, a long, forlorn howl rose, carrying to me on the wind.

A shiver wracked my body that had nothing to do with the wolf out there. All I could think about was how I’d made an absolute fool of myself. How wanting so badly to be with Wyatt had made me see things that weren’t there.

What have I done?

∞     ∞     ∞

I didn’t look at my commander the next day. I couldn’t. I was still so humiliated by everything, so I kept my head down, did my drills, then escaped with Major Armund to continue my self-defense training.

Major Armund pushed me hard, mercilessly.

And I welcomed it.

I welcomed the pain, the sear of my muscles as they strained against her attacks and the heave of my chest as I struggled to breathe.

All of it kept me from thinking about Wyatt, about my embarrassment, about my shortcomings, about knowing that I would never be good enough for him.

But by my second week of training with Major Armund, my humiliation floated away and anger took its place because Wyatt now treated me as if nothing had ever passed between us.

But it had. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I hadn’t imagined anything.

For fucks sake, the man had fingered me, we’d gone down on each other, he’d called me LittleFlower—using some fake term of endearment to trick me—and then he acted like it’d all been a dream. In my head.

Damn him.

He’d played me. Totally and completely played me. It hadn’t been in my head. He’d used me and then acted like I was the crazy one to think he liked me.

I never would have thought he was the kind of guy to do that, but if he actually cared for me, he wouldn’t have acted like that Saturday night never happened, even if it was against the rules.

And now that some time had passed, I knew I hadn’t imagined a few things. It wasn’t normal for a commander to throw other men off a new recruit in a fit of rage, or to whisk that new recruit from a bar and then hang out in her apartment before escaping to the outdoors to eat cake while gazing at the stars. And it definitely wasn’t normal for a commander to kiss a new recruit and get naked with her.

The only explanation for his behavior was that he’d found me attractive and had acted on it, but he didn’t like me enough to actually pursue a relationship with me. In other words, he’d used me, and that made me question if I ever knew Wyatt at all.

Because the Wyatt I remembered from high school never would have acted that way with a woman and then pushed her away.

I punched again at the bag Major Armund held, taking all of my aggression out on it.

“Good!” she said with a grin. “Again.”

I punched harder, my hurt and embarrassment exploding through my movements, not even caring when my wrist ached and my stomach muscles burned.

Because at the end of the day, Wyatt hadn’t acknowledged that he’d made a mistake. He hadn’t been honest about his feelings.

No.

He’d thrown me under the bus, pretended it was all on me, then said it could never happen again and sent me on my way.

Fuck him! I slammed my fist into the bag again.

It was only after thirty minutes of relentless punching, as sweat poured from my forehead like rain down a windowpane, that Major Armund finally stopped me.

“Okay, Meyers. That’s enough for today.” She handed me a towel.

I grabbed it and bent over. My chest shuddered as I struggled to catch my breath, so I rested my hands on my knees as my muscles quivered.

Major Armund cocked her hip and placed a hand on it, then quirked an eyebrow. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on, Private?”

I straightened, wiping at the sweat on my face. “Ma’am?”

She sighed. “The kind of rage you’ve been showing lately isn’t from training. Something personal’s going on. Do you care to enlighten me?”

I pressed my lips together. I couldn’t tell her. No way.

Even though a part of me screamed to confide in someone, I couldn’t tell Major Armund anything. Part of being a good ambassador was learning to control your emotions and not giving into your impulses, yet I’d done both during the past week of training. Besides, Major Armund was Wyatt’s friend. If I told her, she might tell him, and I’d already been humiliated enough for a lifetime.

“No, ma’am. I’m fine.”

Her arched eyebrow rose higher. “So that’s how you’re gonna play this? That you’re fine when you’re clearly not?”

I nodded curtly. If I really needed to talk to someone, I would call someone outside of the SF. I couldn’t confide in anyone here, not even Eliza or Charlotte, but I could tell my mom. She would understand since she and my dad were both ambassadors.

From them, I’d learned how crucial it was to maintain social niceties. Growing up, if things got rough, my mom and dad would lean on each other and confide in one another when work became too stressful to manage on their own. Their intensely close relationship sometimes made my heart ache. They loved each other so much, and I wondered at times if I would ever experience that.

But one thing I’d learned year after year from them was that they never aired work stressors with others. Diplomatic alliances could be precarious, and they had to be protected at all costs. Confiding in girlfriends or my trainer was a luxury I didn’t have. A good ambassador would never do that.

My shoulders slumped. I wiped more sweat from my brow and forced a smile. “I just want to get better, ma’am. Since I can’t rely on magic, I need to become physically stronger. It’s frustrating at times. That’s all.”

She relaxed her stance. “Speaking of magic, I’ve been thinking. We should try to develop your magic more.” She held up her hand when I started to protest. “I know, I know. You’ve never been magically strong, but you’ve also never had intense magical training. I spoke with Reese, one of our sorcerers, about you last night. He’s willing to dedicate a few hours to training you. And if you show any aptitude, he’ll continue, and if you don’t . . .” She shrugged. “At least we tried.”

“Do you really think I could improve, ma’am?”

She smiled crookedly. “Only one way to find out.”

∞     ∞     ∞

My palms were sweating the next day. Major Armund said we’d be starting with Reese today when my training began after drills.

“Drop and give me a hundred,” Wyatt called from the front of my squad. “Privates Larson, Lane, and Morris give me two hundred. Private Meyers, twenty.”

I gritted my teeth and began doing push-ups. “I can do more, sir.” I pushed up and down mechanically. My muscles burned, but I was growing stronger. After a few weeks of this, I’d improved.

Wyatt’s feet appeared in my peripheral vision. He’d moved like a werewolf—completely silently—but now that he stood right over me, I felt his energy.

It strummed toward me in steady waves, rising higher. “You may do more if you wish, Private Meyers,” he said quietly.

I pumped up and down harder and faster, putting everything I had into showing him that I wasn’t going to let the SF or him break me. He took a step back, but I felt him continue to watch, his energy as sharp and acute as a tracking hex.

“Up!” Wyatt called a minute later. “Jump lunges then knee tucks.” His expression remained stoic, but several times his gaze drifted my way.

My heart beat erratically from the exercise, and lactic acid burned so strongly in my muscles that I feared I would collapse, but I forced myself to keep moving.

Charlotte grinned at my side, her speed increasing with every jump.

Chris and Zaden were no different. The vamp and wolf now trained side by side, the earlier angst they had with each other not as apparent. I didn’t know what Wyatt was doing with their training, but I knew he made them work together a lot.

When we finally finished drills, I was gasping for breath while my thigh muscles burned in agony. I managed to stay upright but barely.

“Private Meyers,” Wyatt said from the side. “You may join Major Armund now.”

I nodded curtly, still too out of breath to speak. After waving goodbye to my squad mates, I headed toward the training center, but Wyatt’s call stopped me.

“Private Meyers?” He’d left the group, silently approaching me from behind. When I tilted my chin up, he said haltingly, “How is your training going?”

“Fine, sir.”

He gave a nod, his green eyes a stormy torrent. “Do you feel you’re improving then? That you’ll be able to handle a crisis situation at the Institute should one arise?”

I tried not to be affected by the deep ache in his voice. It made me think that he actually cared about what happened to me, but then I remembered he was simply doing his job. “I do, sir. I mean, not yet, but I feel after my time is finished here that I’ll be better off.”

“And Major Armund isn’t pushing you too hard?”

“No more than you, sir.”

His lips quirked up in a sad smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Carry on.”

I nodded stiffly and began walking toward the training center again, yet with each step I took, I still felt Wyatt’s energy. It rolled into my back in warm waves, and a shiver ran down my spine.

Despite recovering from the earlier drills, my heart pattered again for an entirely new reason, and I wanted to stab myself for it.

Yet, when I reached the door, I couldn’t help it. I glanced over my shoulder.

The rest of my squad was already in the midst of a new training exercise, yet Wyatt’s attention was focused on me.

But the second he caught my curious glance, he turned his back, his body once again a wall of rigid stone as he walked away.