The air crackled with a new kind of tension as we all climbed into the truck. It was strange being included in something as normal as a ride to training. The guys usually existed in their own world, a world I wasn’t part of. And yet here I was, crammed between the twins in the front seat of Aaron’s truck, wondering what had shifted to bring me here.

Devin had been quick with his usual teasing, throwing out more jokes about riding in the truck bed or “doing laps” with Kylie in his lap. I’d managed to laugh it off, though my cheeks had flamed when Ryan—of course—had offered up me to ride on Ethan.

“Tiny can squeeze in up front,” Aaron had said, his voice clipped, almost like he didn’t like the idea of anyone else making me feel uncomfortable. Not that riding in the front between two six-foot future Alphas was less uncomfortable, but I climbed in anyway.

Or rather, Ryan decided I wasn’t moving fast enough and hauled me up by the waist, planting me on his lap before sliding me between him and Aaron. His hands had lingered just a bit too long on my back as he set me down, fingertips grazing one of the rawer cuts Stacey had left behind.

I had gasped, more from the sharp sting than his touch. He didn’t seem to notice—or at least, he didn’t let on if he did.

“How are you already sweaty, Smalls?” Ryan teased, his arm resting behind me, fingers still toying with the hem of my damp t-shirt. “We haven’t even started training yet.”

“Selene overachiever,” Leo chuckled from the back seat. “Already ran half the forest this morning and made breakfast.”

“That’s why we were right on time,” he added, a grin in his voice. “No way I was letting any of that go to waste.”

“You made breakfast?” Devin groaned dramatically from the back. “And you didn’t bring us any? Come on, Tiny. You’re holding out on us.”

I glanced over my shoulder at him, trying to hide my grin. “There wasn’t any extra to bring, but now I know—food is the way to your heart.”

The truck rumbled with laughter as Aaron pulled into the lot by the training grounds. We all piled out, stretching like a circus act emerging from a clown car, drawing a few amused glances from some of the warriors already milling about.

Delta Kyle stood near the edge of the field, clipboard in hand, checking in the pups. His jaw nearly dropped when he saw us—especially Devin, who was usually allergic to morning workouts.

“Morning, Delta!” I called, bounding over with a grin. “Hope you don’t mind, but I brought some backup today.”

Kyle gave me an incredulous look, his eyes flicking from me to the group behind me. “How in the hell did you manage that?” he asked, clearly stunned. “I’ve been trying to drag my own son here by force for years, and now he shows up with you, smiling like it’s a field trip?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’ve gotta teach me your secrets.”

I shrugged, trying not to make a big deal out of it. “No secret. Ethan asked how often I train, and I told them. Guess they wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

Kyle’s jaw dropped slightly before he let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. Selene, you’ve got magic I didn’t know about.”

The guys filtered over, Devin throwing an arm around Kyle’s shoulders in mock affection. “Don’t worry, old man, we’re just here for moral support. And because Selene promised us free breakfast next time.”

“You wish,” I shot back, rolling my eyes.

Kyle chuckled, still shaking his head in disbelief. “Alright, alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, then. Since you’re all here, you might as well make yourselves useful.”

Training with the pups was my favorite part of the week. It was one of the few times I could forget about Stacey and the constant tightrope I walked at school. The kids looked up to me, and I liked knowing that at least here, I could help them feel safe.

The guys surprised me by actually participating. Devin and Ethan paired up with a few of the younger boys, showing them how to block and strike properly. Ryan and Aaron were all in, laughing as they demonstrated takedowns—though I noticed Ryan took every opportunity to glance my way, as if watching to see what I’d do next.

“Hey, Tiny.” Ryan’s voice pulled me from my focus. I looked up from where I was adjusting a little girl’s stance, only to find him standing in front of me, arms crossed and a smug grin plastered across his face.

“Wanna show them how it’s done?” he asked, tilting his head toward the sparring circle.

I raised a brow. “You want me to fight you?”

He smirked. “Unless you’re scared.”

I rolled my eyes. “You wish.”

The pups gathered around eagerly as we squared off, their excited whispers filling the air. I could feel the guys’ eyes on me, watching, waiting to see what I’d do.

Ryan didn’t hold back, lunging at me with all the confidence of someone who thought they were unbeatable. But I was fast—faster than he expected. I ducked under his swing, twisting behind him before sweeping his legs out from under him in one smooth motion.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Ryan hit the ground with a thud, looking up at me in stunned disbelief.

“Guess you’re not as quick as you thought, huh, Ryan?” I teased, grinning down at him.

His expression flickered between shock and amusement before he finally let out a laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “Alright, Tiny. You win this round.”

I extended a hand to help him up, and to my surprise, he took it. His grip was warm and steady, and for a brief moment, something unspoken passed between us—something that felt like respect.

“Not bad, Smalls,” he murmured as he stood. “Not bad at all.”

The rest of training flew by in a blur of drills and laughter. For the first time in years, I felt… included. Like I belonged. The guys treated me like one of them, like I wasn’t just Leo’s little sister but someone they actually saw.

By the time we wrapped up, the sun was fully up, casting a golden glow over the training grounds. As we headed back to the truck, I found myself smiling—something that had become a rare occurrence lately.

Maybe things wouldn’t go back to the way they were on Monday. Maybe—just maybe—something had shifted.

And for the first time, I allowed myself to hope.