Come Out Swinging (Reach for the Moon Book 2), Sam Hall [leveled readers .TXT] 📗

nix or ulva, the shit at home, the packs here, even Father Wolf. He only saw me meeting the struggles head-on, the pack at my side. He didn’t see all the doubt or worry, just me stepping up, like I always would.

Like I had to him.

I had to pull my lips free when I felt it, what was at the core of the draw of me for him. He could stop building walls because he knew I’d step in over them, tear them down and drag him close, wind my body and my heart around him, and we’d protect each other.

My eyes flicked open, his a reflection of mine, blazing phosphorus bright as we just stared, sucking in breaths.

“Lorcan…” I hissed, unable to get any other words past the lump in my throat. My eyes fluttered, blinking away the tears that followed as I saw what he saw.

We hadn’t had long together, everything crammed in and forced by my family, the funeral, my call. That always worried me, not feeling like I had enough time to really let things develop, but that wasn’t the way he saw things. We were just taking the first step on a path that would last our lives, where we would build all the things he never had—a pack, people that loved him, happiness.

“I can feel it now, that connection.” He nodded to Greta. “Time to show them what you can do, killer,” he said with a rakish grin, but it took me a second to realise what he meant.

“Margaret.” Greta gestured for my trainer to come back into the centre of the mats, everyone else fanning out. I felt…something rush inside me when she approached, nodding before holding her fists out. I bumped my knuckles against hers, and then I exploded.

We’d need to train with this, I realised as soon as I moved, feeling my body fly across the mat with a speed that was dizzying. But I compensated quickly. I’d shifted from one body to the other since puberty, having to adjust to the constraints of each, so my mind assessed the differences, then laughed.

I felt lit within, a bright fire burning, fuelling my muscles and bones as I danced across the floor, spanning the distance in seconds, while Margaret struggled to find a target. She wasn’t tapping into her pack, she couldn’t be, her movements were so damn slow. I shuffled in, getting up and under her guard with little effort, her every strike telegraphed at what felt like a molasses pace. I had to pull my punches, I realised all too late, because what was powering my strikes was something else.

“You don’t punch a person,” Zack had told me, “you punch through them. If you aim for where they are, you don’t exert enough force. If you hit them where they are” —he demonstrated on a dummy we had in the gym— “you don’t have enough force. You bounce off each other. But if you drive through…”

I watched his whole body pivot, all of those muscles working to throw their weight and power behind the punch. The dummy went flying back, landing on the ground with a thud. My eyes went wide when I saw it, knowing in that moment, I wanted to be able to hit like that more than anything else in the world. He grinned when he straightened up, breathing in deep, no doubt scenting my excitement in more ways than one.

“Show me,” was all I would say, so he did.

“Fuck!” I snarled, already having struck out, knowing I was going to total her if this hit connected. A low hum started in the room, rising and rising as I watched my fist unerringly arrow towards Margaret’s jaw. The sound got louder and louder and then bang!

Have you seen that scene in the movie, Snatch, when Brad Pitt gets hammered, his whole body lifting up into the air, only to come slamming down on the mat? That’s what happened, what I did to Margaret. My muscles locked down tight, anything to keep me still, the throbbing, pulsing power inside pushing at me, wanting more, more, more. Lorcan was at my side in seconds, his fists and mine balled tight, both of us looking the fallen woman over like she was fallen prey.

The older women came closer, the hum getting louder and louder, until finally, a cascade of golden sparkles filled the air. The tension leached out of our bodies, dissipating in an almost euphoric rain, the sparkles instantly absorbed by the ground beneath us. It was only then that they closed in on us.

“So now you see,” Greta said, clasping her hands in front of her as the other women saw to Margaret, golden light trickling from their hands into her body. “When the divine masculine is allowed to run free, it empowers women. No single man would put themselves forward as alpha faced with a display like this. Everyone within your pack will need to tap into that power to share it, and when you do?” Her smile was gentle, beatific. “Nothing will hold you back.”

Lorcan slung his arm around me, pulling me into his side.

“This is it, love,” he said. “This is how we’re gonna kick that bitch’s arse.”

I looked up at the rest of my pack, who had come closer, saw the nods all around the circle.

“So anyone can pull from the others?” I asked Greta.

“It takes practise. The link to you makes it easier, unless there are emotional connections between your mates?” she replied.

I looked at Mason, standing there with Declan and Micah on either side of him, then looked over at his brother.

“Of a sort,” I said.

“Then this is what we must work on. Making those connections stronger, tapping into each other’s power. What you have will be truly dazzling,” she said, sparing Margaret a glance as her mates helped her to her feet. “But you won’t be able to spar with anyone else until you’ve mastered your abilities. Now, let’s go and