He rolls his shoulder forward the second Van gives the signal, trying to top-roll me by pulling my fingers back to weaken my grip.
But to my shock, I discover that I can actually resist him, and a few moments later it’s me pushing his hand down with relative ease. His red face is proof of how much effort he is putting in.
"Hey! We’ve got an arm-wrestler growing here!" Uncle Van laughs.
"It’s stupid!" Storm growls, but everybody ignores his pouty face. Alex does a funny little victory dance.
"I have an idea. Try going against Timothy," Van says, half joking, half serious.
"No way, I’m not beating an adult alpha," I say and tap my neck glands, which in teenage alphas are still immature. "I’d need these."
"Who knows, there are all kinds of cases, sometimes strength is genetic."
"I don’t know," I mutter, glancing at Alex. Something rises in me, a need to show Alex, specifically him, that I’m not the zero I… actually am.
"Why not, try it, you can learn a lot about technique even from a loss," Van says with absolute conviction.
Timothy’s arrogance kicks in again, he reaches out to me and says, "Go on, Bay, it’s only for fun."
Is he hoping to redeem himself against a teen? He’s that desperate?
I look at him, then at Alex again, whose eyes narrow slightly in a strange little smile.
Alright, I finally decide, it would be embarrassing to lose to Storm, but nobody will laugh if I lose to a fifty-year-old alpha.
Van positions our thumbs, lines up our elbows, and we begin.
He explains quickly that Timothy will probably try to hook me by curling his wrist in, which gives him leverage, and tells me to keep my wrist locked if I don’t want to lose instantly.
I expect the same attack Storm used, a sharp, sudden push meant to beat me before I can react, but Timothy doesn’t push fast, maybe he thinks this will be an easy win, a piece of cake, and he’ll take me down slowly while savoring it.
I start pressing against his hand, and to my amazement I feel his wrist bending more than I ever thought I could bend it, and I see a flicker of confusion cross his face, he must realize he has to stop fooling around, because he suddenly braces and pushes back hard, but I do the same, all in, and I push his hand farther and farther, slower than with Storm, but still with the feeling that I can actually do this. It isn’t impossible.
Our forearms tremble against the tension, Timothy shifts his feet, trying to brace his whole body into the movement, but the pressure flows evenly through my arm, and my body responds with matching strength, equalizing his pressure…
And then…
I think of myself, and whether I actuallyshouldwin it.
They would really think I’m some kind of freak, a glitch of nature, it’s impossible for an immature alpha who doesn’t have developed glands to beat someone so much older.
So I decide to let it go.
I allow him to gain the advantage, relax my muscles, and moments later Timothy begins to push my hand toward inevitable defeat, but… suddenly his expression changes. He must have noticed that I’m not putting my full strength into it. He freezes and says,
"Bay, I can see you let go. Don’t give me pity points," he says with a frown, tilting his head and looking at our grip from the side, as if analyzing the sudden shift in the strength of my pressure. "Give it your best, kid."
I glance at Alex. He nods almost imperceptibly.
Alright, he asked for it.
So I go all in again, I start pushing and his hand bends back again, and it goes surprisingly easily, and two seconds later his hand touches the surface of the table.
"Wow," Timothy says.
"Wow," Uncle Van repeats, staring at us.
I see genuine astonishment on his face, and my brothers start jumping and clapping, they probably don’t fully understand what just happened, that I did something theoretically impossible once again.
