This Dark Wolf (Soul Bitten Shifter #1) - Everly Frost Page 0,48

here, I would keep my earmuffs on for safety reasons, but Iyana and I have the place to ourselves.

Iyana stands a little behind me and I can already hear what she’s going to say: Shake it off; you’ll do better tomorrow.

We both know I won’t.

It’s time to admit that guns aren’t my thing. “It’s like I’m primed to hit everything other than what I’m aiming for,” I say.

As I turn to give Iyana the news that I’m giving up, the door in the glass wall behind us opens.

I freeze as Jace enters.

He was so quiet this morning that I wasn’t aware of his presence. More surprisingly, this is the first time he’s come anywhere close to me since my first days at Hidden House.

Iyana shifts a little closer to me as he approaches, a protective gesture that he doesn’t miss—causing him to stop short. She was originally going to leave Hidden House after my first week. Instead, she’s stayed two months.

Jace folds his arms across his chest as he stops several paces away from us. He’s wearing his usual low-slung jeans, but today, a black T-shirt conceals his wolf tattoo.

I frown at the ugly bruise stretching across his cheek. It’s faded, maybe a week old. My own bruises are long healed, even if the memories of that night will remain with me forever.

“Maybe you should try throwing knives,” Jace says.

I glare at him, unimpressed by his condescension. “Very funny.”

“I’m not trying to insult you,” he says, his tone serious. “I can’t shoot a gun to save my life, but I can hit a guy’s eye with a knife from twenty feet away. While he’s running in a zigzag, no less.”

Jace takes a step toward me, but I stand my ground.

“We’re shifters,” he says. “We need instinctive weapons. Guns are as cold as vampires. No offense, Iyana. Knives are visceral—up close and bloody. That’s how shifters fight.”

Uncertain, I cast a questioning glance at Iyana. So far, we haven’t started working with blades, but Jace’s claims resonate with what Helen has been teaching me about my wolf—she is part of me at a deep, instinctive level. My power follows the most basic instincts—claw, tooth, life, lust, and death. There is no threat here in the gun range. My target is always at a distance, removed from me and made of paper, even if I try to imagine it’s someone I hate.

“I’m willing to try it,” I say, beating back my own misgivings.

“It’s completely up to you, Tessa.” Iyana tips her head in acquiescence. “But blades aren’t my forte. I can fight with them, but I’m no good at throwing them. Jace will have to show you.” She gives him a pointed and cold look, pinning him with her icy blue-gray eyes. “If he’s willing.”

Jace pauses before he inclines his head in agreement. The length of his pause tells me he thought he could throw his suggestion out there and move on. He clearly wasn’t counting on having to teach me.

“Let’s head up to the gym for this,” Iyana says, seeming to take his silence for agreement. “You’ll need a solid target.”

Jace steps well clear of us as we pass by. On the night my father died, Jace told me that whatever power my scent had over Tristan, Jace didn’t plan on succumbing to it. I warned him that he’d better not get too close to me. I’m still not sure if Jace is a powerful enough shifter to detect the high and low notes of my scent like Tristan can, but I don’t want to find out.

I can’t help smirking, though, as I wonder how he’s going to show me how to throw a knife without touching me to check my footing or the position of my arms. Maybe he’ll demonstrate from a distance.

But then I wonder… What if my scent has no impact on him because I have it under control now?

On the way up the stairs, I suddenly realize that I’m in a dangerous position.

In the last two months, Helen has taught me how to control my wolf more thoroughly than I ever thought possible. She has taught me how to diminish my scent, as well as accentuate it, controlling it at will. She helped me see that the cobalt fire that fills my vision when I harness my wolf’s energy is the color of my fear, that I can control my fear and tame it. Helen has taught me to turn my wolf into a quiet predator, scouting through