Fated By Starlight by Krista Street

Chapter 5

~ AVERY ~

After a long first day, I went to bed early only to have a shrill alarm wake me up just before six.

I was never what one would call a morning person, so naturally I swatted at the annoying sound. Unfortunately, the alarm was a pre-programmed magical device that only blared louder and louder until its target stood and registered actively awake brainwaves. It also steadily pulsed a bright light like some drunk disco ball.

Most annoying.

“Fine,” I grumbled once standing. “See? You can shut up now. I’m awake.”

The alarm ceased, and the magical orb disappeared from the corner of my room along with its irritating strobe light.

I was tempted to see what it would do if I collapsed back onto bed but knew that being late to my first day of physical training wouldn’t bode well.

Yawning, I stretched my arms overhead. Dim sunlight penetrated my bedroom’s simple yet practical and thick polyester curtains, highlighting my rumpled sheets. I straightened my bed, dressed, then surveyed my room.

Pale cream walls, a single overhead light, and no closet showcased the bare living arrangements. The bedroom was small and only contained a twin bed and a four-drawer dresser filled with the standard pre-stocked SF uniform, already washed and laundered in my size.

I’d packed my street clothes into the two bottom empty drawers. Who knew when I’d have an opportunity to where those during the next three months.

I couldn’t fault the SF for the rather lackluster accommodation, though. We weren’t here to sleep, lounge on the couch, or go out partying every night in halter tops. We were here to train.

Still, I hadn’t slept in a twin-sized bed since high school and wasn’t sure I liked the change. Granted, it would only be for three months, and once I arrived in Geneva at the Supernatural Ambassador Institute, I would buy myself a queen again.

“Good morning!” Eliza called in a chipper voice when I entered the kitchen. The fairy twirled around on the linoleum floor like an effervescent ballerina, her purple hair bright and shiny in the overhead fluorescent light.

I finished tucking my T-shirt into my cargo pants and sniffed appreciatively. “Is that coffee I smell?”

“Oh yes, would you like a cup of this sustenance?” She opened the cupboard to get another mug.

“Definitely.” I was about to drop onto the barstool at the small counter overlooking the kitchen when Charlotte breezed into the room.

“No time, ladies,” the tall female werewolf said. “We have to report in ten minutes. Come on, let’s get moving.”

∞     ∞     ∞

Our commander met our entire squad in the cafeteria for a quick breakfast. As soon as I saw him, my heart thumped like an excited rabbit. I tried to concentrate on dishing food onto my tray, but Wyatt looked as deliciously appealing today as he did yesterday, making my gaze continually snag his way.

It didn’t help that the man’s body was built like a god—wide shoulders, chiseled abs, strong and heavily muscled legs. If that wasn’t enough to make my heart trip, his attractive face only added to my schoolgirl reaction. His piercing emerald eyes, dark hair, and square jaw made my stomach curl in an entirely too familiar pattern.

Gods. It was like high school all over again. So pathetic!

Of course, Wyatt’s expression remained cool and calm throughout the meal. I could have sworn he didn’t remember me. I mean, I didn’t expect him to greet me like an old friend, but I thought by now I would have seen some flicker of recognition in him.

But so far—nothing.

After a rushed breakfast, during which Zaden constantly baited Chris, Wyatt stood and grabbed his tray. “Let’s get a move on.”

Outside, I shielded my eyes from the bright morning sun. Scents of freshly cut grass wafted in the air reminding me of a summer I’d spent in Iowa when my parents had been working with a witch coven based in Des Moines. It was the first time I’d ever had to learn how to run a lawn mower since we lived in a human residential neighborhood during my parents’ ambassador stint in the Midwest.

Wyatt led us across a freshly cut field to a ropes course I’d noticed on the tour yesterday. The wooden beams, bridges, and ropes towered into the air.

Our commander planted his hands on his hips. The stance enhanced his muscular torso and round shoulders.

Avery, focus! I mentally slapped myself.

“We’re starting at this course today. I want to see how physically fit all of you are. Each of you will be timed. Do the best you can, and remember, this isn’t a contest. You all have jobs waiting for you at the end of training, and it’s understood that not all of you are going into physically demanding positions, so your final tests will be tailored accordingly. However, you’re all still required to pass training, which means a certain level of fitness is expected of you.”

The ropes structure loomed above and around us. I tilted my head back, my heart beating faster, and for once that rapid heart rate had nothing to do with my commander.

The course started with a thirty-foot-tall net that climbed to a narrow platform attached to a wobbly-looking bridge. From there, a single rope descended at an angle to the ground. At the bottom were pits, trenches, more nets, and wooden hurdles. After that, it was another vertical climb and more dangerous-looking ropes to descend from.

I took a deep breath. I knew this kind of stuff would be required of me during my SF training, but to actually see it and know it was coming . . .

That was another story.

I nibbled my lip. I wasn’t in horrible shape, but I wasn’t a fitness nut either, and I’d certainly never done an extreme ropes course before. I just hoped I didn’t fall.

“Remember, this is merely a course to test your current fitness.” Wyatt’s deep-set green eyes slid my way. I somehow managed to muster a smile before he addressed the group again. “Who would like to start?”

Chris’s hand shot into the air. “Sir, I would be honored, sir.”

Zaden rolled his eyes.

Wyatt gave a curt nod. “Very well, Private Larson.”

The rest of the group stepped back as Chris grinned. He rolled his shoulders a few times and danced on his toes, doing a good rendition of Muhammad Ali. The early morning summer air swirled around us. It was already getting warm even though it was only seven. A few mourning doves trilled from the trees as Wyatt held up a timer.

“When you’re ready.”

“Ready, sir.”

“Go.”

Chris took off and scaled the thirty-foot netting like he was climbing a flight of stairs. At the top, he swung his legs onto the platform before running across the wobbly bridge with his sure footsteps.

On the other side, he looped his hands and ankles around the angled thick rope, shimmying easily down it like a supercharged monkey until he reached the ground, and then—

He turned into a blur.

Now that he was on the flat ground with the nets, trenches, and hurdles, he was in his element. Werewolves had natural physical prowess and it showed. When he looped around the course and appeared again just at the end, Wyatt hit his timer.

“Not bad.”

Zaden’s nose scrunched up. “Sir, how fast was he?”

“Two minutes, fourteen seconds.”

Charlotte crossed her arms. “May I ask what the record is, sir?”

“One minute, fifty-three seconds.”

Zaden grumbled just as Chris returned to our sides.

“Sir?” Chris asked eagerly.

Wyatt reiterated his time, telling him he did well. Chris’s chest puffed up like a turkey’s on Thanksgiving.

“Any volunteers for who goes second?” Wyatt asked.

Naturally, Charlotte volunteered. Similar to Chris, she flew through the course. While she wasn’t as fast as the male werewolf, she was still much faster than a normal human, and she swung and dove as aptly as an Olympic gymnast.

When she finished, Wyatt nodded with satisfaction. “Very good. Four minutes, twenty seconds.”

Charlotte grinned, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, while my stomach twisted even more.

One by one, each of my squad mates went through the course. Zaden was almost as fast as Chris, given his vampire speed, and while Nick didn’t have the physical advantage that wolves and vamps had, he did have magic on his side.

Several times, he muttered spells which created magical gusts of wind propelling him along, and twice he used levitation spells to bypass the ropes completely.

When he did that, Chris growled. “Sir, is that cheating?”

But Wyatt merely crossed his arms. “No more than you cheated. Each supernatural is born with their own gifts. It’s best to hone them and use them. Now, who’s next?”

Unlike my squad mates, I never volunteered. As each of them did the course, I began to dread it more and more, especially when Bo and Eliza did it without any problems. Of the seven of us, I’d considered them about on par with my magical abilities, but after seeing Eliza’s catlike prowess that any fairy would be proud of, and Bo’s ability to use basic levitation spells as well, I knew that even the two of them were stronger than me.

“Private Meyers?” Wyatt said softly after Bo finished. “It’s your turn.”

Around me, my squad mates talked and laughed, their adrenaline-infused high making them excitable. But instead of being eager to share in what they’d experienced, I wanted to sink right through the ground.

“Come on, Meyers,” Chris said. “You can do it.”

I gave him a tight smile and looked up at the thirty-foot-tall net. I rubbed my hands on my thighs and took a deep breath.

Wyatt stepped closer to me until he was only inches away. “Remember,” he said quietly. “This isn’t a contest. Just do your best.”

While I knew that his soft words of encouragement were meant to put me at ease, they only made my cheeks burn hotter. Nobody else had hesitated when it was their turn.

“You can do this, Avery,” he added. “It’s just like gym class back in Ridgeback. Remember the ropes in high school? Not much different.”

My gaze whipped to his.

His expression didn’t change, but his irises burned like smoldering emeralds.

A deep warmth seeped through my limbs, and a tentative smile followed. So he did remember me.

I made myself look away and squash my grin, but a thrill tingled down my spine. Maybe I wasn’t as forgettable as I’d always thought.

With a swell of confidence, I squared my shoulders, and a rush of determination filled me. I may not have been strong or magically superior, or have the strength of full and half-blooded female werewolves, but I wasn’t a complete weakling.

I was going to do this.

A small smile curved Wyatt’s lips. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

He held up the timer. “On my count, three . . . two . . . one!”

I lunged forward and grabbed the net. It shifted under my palm, trying to escape backward, but I held it firm. I slipped my feet into the slots and began to climb.

“You can do it, Meyers!” Charlotte called from below.

Zaden whooped, and Eliza cheered. Hearing them all rooting for me made my confidence grow. I clung to the net, slotting my feet into each square, as I clawed my way to the top and the ground fell beneath me.

I knew I wasn’t the fastest, not by a long shot, but I managed to get to the top.

Breathing hard, I swung my legs onto the platform, my heart beating painfully fast. My muscles burned, and my arms felt weak, but I managed to stand.

Even though I was out of breath and my limbs shook, I determinedly stared at the bridge in front of me. Tentatively, I reached for the ropes on each side, coarse twine grazing my palms. Holding them firm, I took a step out, my eyes widening when the bridge swung violently.

Below me, Wyatt watched my every move. He’d shifted from the net to stand in the pit below me. He hadn’t done that with any of the other recruits.

Gritting my teeth, I put all of my weight on the first wooden plank. The bridge swung again, but I held on.

Little by little, I made my way across it, the bridge swinging with my every step. By the time I neared the other side, my breathing was shallow, since each step had felt insecure and precarious.

When I finally stepped onto the solid platform with the single rope descending at an angle down to the ground, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Until I looked at what waited for me.

A long, thick rope was connected to the thirty-foot platform I stood on. It arced to the ground like a curved blade, and with a sharp swallow, I wondered how I’d descend it. I wasn’t as strong as the others.

“You can do it!” one of my squad mates yelled.

I dared a look down at my commander. Wyatt’s jaw was locked, his entire attention on me.

“Grab the rope with both hands,” he said calmly, “then swing your legs up and hook your ankles around it. You’ll shimmy down from there.”

My heart beat harder as I tried to imagine doing what he said. The others had made this look so easy.

“Take your time, Avery.”

Hearing him use my first name again made my stomach flip despite the adrenaline coursing through me. He remembers me. Standing on my tiptoes, I reached for the rope. It was so thick that I could barely get my hands around it.

“That’s it, now swing your legs up and loop your ankles together.”

I did as he said, or tried to. I swung from my hands, trying to get my legs vertical, but my stomach burned from lactic acid. Still, I wasn’t going to give up.

On my third try, I managed to lock my ankles around the rope, then worked it up so my knees held me more securely.

“That’s it!” Wyatt yelled.

I breathed harder and started descending. The rough rope cut into my palms, but I ignored the pain and kept shimmying.

When I was fully away from the ledge, a moment of panic seized me.

I was dangling twenty-five feet above the ground, and my arms and legs burned. No safety net waited below me. If I fell, I’d hit the ground and probably break bones. Unless Wyatt caught me. Maybe that was why he was following me through the course.

Blood thundered through my ears as the rope swung, and my hands began to slip.

“Keep moving, Avery!” Wyatt called. “Don’t stop!”

His comments jolted me into action. I squeezed my eyes shut and let gravity help me. I began sliding down the rope, going faster and faster. The rope burned my palms, and I swallowed a yelp of pain, but I didn’t let go.

When I dangled eight feet from the ground, I couldn’t hold on any longer.

I fell from the rope, and my legs buckled beneath me, but I straightened and ran for the next obstacle.

Off to the side, Wyatt watched, a smile stretching across his face.

I slid, climbed, crawled, and fought my way through the rest of the course. Rope burn made my palms sting, and my muscles screamed in protest, but I didn’t stop.

By the time I looped back around to the beginning of the course, my squad mates were cheering wildly.

“Go, Meyers! Go, Meyers! Go, Meyers!” they chanted over and over.

My chest heaved when I reached them. Wyatt had rejoined them, his eyes sparkling as a smile curved his lips.

I couldn’t help but grin in return.

I knew that I was the slowest.

I knew that in a crisis situation, I would hold the team up.

But dammit, I did it, and it felt really freakin’ good that for once in my life, I was able to do what other supernaturals were capable of.