Page 39 of Demon Rejected
9
Scarlett
Three months later
The night when Matt rejected me felt so far away, like a bad dream that made my chest hurt and left the bitter taste of ashes inside my mouth. It was a whole other life that kept me way too busy to be sad. My alarm clock rang at five in the morning. I rushed through showering and a hasty breakfast to get down to weapons training. Even though my wolf pined for Matt, my mind pushed him as far away as possible. I was way too busy to feel sad.
Ziggy took me to HG right after we left that dinner where, to my surprise, I received a room to myself. I expected it to look more like a prison but was delighted that it was, in fact, close to a five-star hotel, not that I have been in a five-star hotel before. After the first three months there, I became an expert in weapons, close combat, and fast shifting. During training, I kept my purpose in front of me. Each difficulty and setback made me push harder.
As much as I enjoyed the new people, I mainly kept to myself, even going on long runs in wolf form alone. The only exception was Cello. Still, I hid Sparky from others and from her, too. There was no need for them to know I’m a Fire Wolf. Matt rejected me, and he knew I was a Fire Wolf. Still, in my heart, I wanted to believe he’d keep my secret.
I didn’t see Ziggy often. He was an active operative but would stop now and then at the cafeteria and have lunch with me.
My weapons instructor was a woman who looked like a tank. She was funny as fuck, and I loved to learn how to use the guns.
My back hurt from fight training. My abilities made me slip through the ranks fast and landed me into the advanced class during the first two weeks of my stay in HQ. After exercising with a sword and sticks and training to escape more than five attackers at once, lunch break was welcome.
A part of me enjoyed the noise in the cafeteria. I could have had my lunch in my room, but it made me feel good to be close to other shifters.
Our teacher in shifter psychology talked about the metanatural bond and the feeling of being close to your people.
I picked a steak and some butter potatoes and put them on a tray. Eyeing the espresso machine, I left the tray on my table in the corner and walked towards the machine to get myself a cup of hot Italian. The dessert table tempted me, but my body needed clean food, proteins and carbs.
The upside of being a shifter is that you can damn eat whatever you want without gaining weight. I never noticed that before because weight was never an issue for me. I learned it here. Most of us had incredible model-type bodies. Other tall, slim, and muscular-looking shifters eat the same thing as I did. I will always skip a piece of lean turkey for a slice of juicy, bloody cow. I had this image in my mind of a wolf running on the field and hunting down a cow and then biting into her flesh, allowing the blood to run down her face.
Cello made her way toward me. She always had that cheerful smile on her face. Cello was a genuinely happy person and, in a weird way, her good nature balanced out my darkness. We became friends when she fell during meditation class and I helped her up on her feet. Cello is the only wolf I know that isn’t slim but rather curvy.
After that meditation class, she walked up to me to thank me and introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Violin, but everyone calls me Cello."
My eyebrows pulled together in a frown. It didn’t make sense at first until it did. Then she pointed toward her round, curvy hips. I didn’t see anything wrong with her, but it seems she did.
“You know, 'cause I look more like a cello rather than a violin. Violin sounds too pretentious either way, right?" She finished her intro with a giggle.
Her hand hung in front of me, and I took it. That was the end of my loner life. Silence and darkness sounded less horrible with Cello by my side.
“Scarlett.” I watched her walk towards me, her tray loaded with cookies, chocolate cake, and a large milkshake. “Hi, Scarlett, how are you, girl?"
Cello sat on her chair. We had a habit of sitting at this side table that allowed us to view the entire cafeteria. Cello grew up with SN, both her parents being high ranking, and as such, she knew everyone. After meeting her, I started to feel a little bit less lost in the maze of a complex organization.
“I had combat training. Everything hurts. How about you?"
Cello bit her lower lip and started nibbling on a cookie.
“Weapons. The Tank cleaned the floor with me."
Cello looked so sad, with her huge, warm brown eyes and her short curly hair. I liked Tank. She was a great teacher that could push you beyond your breaking point, but I hated her for the way she behaved with Cello.
“That bad, honey?"
“Yes. You know that I try. It’s just when she stays there and stares at me I feel as if I have to puke and cry at the same time, my hands get clammy, my breathing is all wrong, and I can barely hold the gun steady. And the worst thing,” she said and took another bite from her chocolate cookie, “is that the damn cow laid down next to me and started firing herself. Fuck. You know that I do okay with pistols and knives, but I damn suck with the rifle. I can’t hit that target. I just can’t find a position that works for me."
A tear stuck in the corner of her eyes. Her voice sounded shaky and broke under pressure.
Cello often came over to my room to cry. She needed someone she could trust to talk to so her parents wouldn’t find out about her weakness.
It looks like parents are parents, no matter if they are shifters or not. Cello’s parents were both pack betas. She had to rise to their level, no matter how.
I put my hand on hers and squeezed. “You know something. I’ll get us some rifles. We wolf out tonight and shoot outside. Sounds good?"