Translation: Jade is worried about Micah, too.
The incident last month shook our small circle more than anyone admits. An Omega who makes his living being desirable on camera walks a dangerous line, and Micah’s stalker crossed it with frightening ease.
I drop my gym bag by the wall and remove my jacket, careful to ensure the sleeves of my shirt stay pulled down. The air conditioning struggles to cut the heat of thirty bodies in a closed space.
“Gabriel tried to tag along, too,” Micah adds.
I grunt in response.
He rocks on his heels. “He’s not so bad, once you get to know him.”
I turn my head to glare. “Stop trying to set me up with your brother-in-law. I don’t do other Alphas.”
“You don’t do anyone,” he mutters, his cheeks turning pink.
I sigh. “Just because you’re happily mated to abillionaire Alpha doesn’t mean everyone else needs to be, too.”
“Not everyone. Just you. Billionaire life is pretty nice, once you grow accustomed to the domestic staff and the constant surveillance.” Worry flickers across his features. “And I don’t like you being alone since I moved up to Skyhaven. I don’t see you as much as I used to.”
If I told him that his move left me lonely, too, it would only make him feel guilty. “Contrary to your belief, my world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“Shut up!” He shoves my shoulder. “Yes, it does.”
I ruffle his hair. “Okay, yes, it does.”
And I refuse to let it hurt thathislife stopped revolving aroundme.
Micah worked hard to earn his happily ever after. It’s not his fault I’m not cut out for the same life. I’ve got too many demons, and some young billionaire Alpha isn’t going to lay any of them to rest. I’d likely kill Gabriel Rockford if he ever tried to touch me in earnest instead of simply playing around.
“So, what do you think?” Micah gestures to the front, where two instructors demonstrate basic warm-up moves.
The man, a middle-aged Alpha with a receding hairline and muscles built from gym time instead offighting, directs his female Beta partner through exaggerated defensive postures.
“I think…” I turn toward Jade, and the two of us trade a quick, silent assessment. “You could learn more from watching a YouTube tutorial.”
Micah’s face falls. “That bad?”
“Worse.” Jade steps up beside us, criticism sharpening his posture. “The stance he’s teaching would knock you on your ass in two seconds flat.”
“He’s right,” I say. “In the streets, you have to fight dirty. An attacker isn’t going to wait around for you to assume the right position.”
“You’d be better off keeping a knife on hand,” Jade adds with a curl of his lip. “If someone grabs you, start stabbing any part of their body you can reach.”
I scan the tight workout clothes he wears, knowing he’s carrying and curious where the weapon, orweapons, are hidden. Mine is in my shoe, which isn’t ideal for a fast grab, but I didn’t want to risk stabbing myself if I ended up rolling around on the mats today.
“But it’s still good practice, right? For when you guys are busy.” Micah’s hopeful expression reminds me of why I dragged myself here in the first place.
Like me, Jade also offered to teach Micah self-defense, but the apprenticing Omega assassin doesn’t have a handle on his emotions most days, and his lessons lean more toward kill first, ask questions never.
And Micah needs to feel safer, but can’t stomach blood. If this mediocre class helps, I’ll sit through it.
“Let’s see what they’ve got,” I concede, staying at the edge of the mat rather than joining the group.
Jade positions himself beside me, his posture mirroring mine.
When the instructors ask for participants to demonstrate the first set of moves, neither of us volunteers. Instead, we watch as Micah pairs with a woman about his height to practice how to break a wrist grab.
“Your stance is all wrong,” Jade calls out after Micah trips over his own feet. “You’re leaning back. Your weight needs to be centered.”
