-February-
After several rounds of warriors had surrendered, Alpha Cedric grabbed a water bottle and towel for a quick breather. Just like a dinner bell, a dozen thirsty women came running and surrounded him, flirting and touching him casually. They were warriors, each with toned bodies and an assertive mien. His indifferent expression was no deterrent to their persistence. After a few minutes, he simply walked past them without a word and continued his sparring sessions, leaving them to swoon over his retreating form. A few of the women resumed sparring, the others returned to their place in que, eagerly awaiting their turn to tussle with hunk.
Everyone was fighting in earnest. Not only was it an amazing opportunity for training, but a shot at proving their worth to the Alpha. But in the end, no matter how hard they came at him, the Alpha remained untouched. He was a different breed of werewolf altogether. Lyra's eyebrows inched together in concern. Just how much strict training was he subjected to to gain that exceptional level of prowess. It couldn't have been healthy for his body or mind to endure.
A loud whistle drew the attention of the spectators to the foreground, to the area directly under the window. There, staring back up at the shameless Omegas was Ruben, waving giddily. His wavy hair was tousling in the early breeze and the green at the center of his hazel eyes seemed to glow, reflecting the packhouse lights. Shirtless and barefoot, wearing only gym shorts, his toned upper body and arms accentuated by the contrast lighting.
The girls giggled at his childlike charm which differed from, yet complimented, his manly features. He had turned into quite the babe magnet. It wasn't surprising with his handsome looks and friendly personality. Although he rarely exhibited it, he had a strong presence. He maintained the confidence of a person capable of power, so to the perceptive suitors, there was one more reason to pursue him. And yet, in the three months of living at Gibbous Peak, not once did Ruben take interest in romance. Not even a fling or hook up. He was perpetually kind, letting down the confessions as gently as he could. He was already well past the age most would wait to find their fated mate, so it was puzzling to the pack why he would reject so many worthy mate candidates. Even the girls attempting to start a casual fling with him were turned away. His celibacy was a well discussed enigma to all except Lyra.
Lyra mind-linked him, [You think you're cute, huh?]
Ruben's expression vivified, he took her words as a challenge. He changed his stance to a more languid pose and blew a kiss after he winked in their direction. It was a performance purely to tease Lyra, he didn't have any regard for the other eyes on him.
Three of the girls squealed and Lyra burst out laughing. Heather looked to Lyra, who was in turn, a bit put off at her sudden interest and eye contact. Heather's eyes glimmered with the hope of something beneficial.
"Hey, Mutt! You know Ruben, right?" Her words were said more as an accusation than a question. Then like magic, her tone transformed to a syrupy one, unbefitting the scowl that faintly lingered on her face, "Would you please set us up on a date with an official introduction? I'm really interested in him."
This was the same Heather who was Lyra's number one tormenter. She was more straightforward and unfiltered with her mistreatment toward Lyra. She often would say that mutts are useless, wasting the very air they breathe. Who's asking this "mutt" for a favor, now? Lyra couldn't suppress the laugh that pressed its way up her throat, exiting as a snort. Really, the complete shamelessness was astonishing.
[Meet you for breakfast?] Ruben interrupted before Lyra could answer Heather. She looked back out the window and made an obvious display of mind-linking, misleading Heather so that she wouldn't have to give a direct answer.
[Yeah, yeah. See you in a couple hours.]
[Love youuu!] He howled as she disappeared from view. The only response he received was a faint chuckle through the mind link. With a satisfied smirk, he returned to sparring, completely ignoring the Omegas that were still watching him with greedy eyes.
Lyra completed her work without any confrontations. At this point, she had a good routine. She was able to do her work competently and quietly, not requiring directions or supervision. Like a clock, you see and utilize it, but don't really take note of it until it's not doing its job. So long as Lyra wasn't underfoot and her assigned tasks were completed in a timely fashion, no one would pay her any mind. That was how she preferred her interactions anyway.
Breakfast, as well as lunch, was served as a buffet. Just as the last of the food was placed on the long tables on the sidewall of the dining hall, the packhouse members began flooding in. There was nothing orderly in the way they gathered food and chose seating, but the liveliness was a comfortable atmosphere to most of them.
Ruben entered along with a group of warriors. Despite being only a trainee, he was already welcomed by the instated members. Lyra hastily made a bee line through the crowd to approach him. Her eyes were wide beneath the fringe and her lips pressed into a thin frown.
"The hell is this?!" She said scornfully. Her voice was barely a whisper, drowned out in the loud dining hall. But to a werewolf, listening was no problem, so long as he knew what to hone in on.
Lyra's fingertips grazed the massive purple bruise that covered Ruben's cheek from the bridge of his nose, under his eye and to the angle of his jaw. His eyelid was unable to open completely due to the swelling and he was moving his mouth minimally.
The brawny man next to Ruben shrugged when he indicted fault with a jab of his thumb to the side. Lyra's side eye was fierce before she returned her attention to Ruben's face, making sure he didn't need medical treatment. She wasn't a professional, but between some college courses and extensive familiarity with blunt traumas, she had a practical knowledge for assessment.