The Beta's Daughter

The Gift

Chapter 3
Jace's pov

The sound of a loud ear piercing whistle rings out , signaling practice is over. Thank fuck. Every muscle in my body is screaming, ones I didn't even know I had at that.

Even though I'm in the best shape of my life, these sadistic bastards find new ways to torture us. Daily.

I use my discarded t-shirt to wipe the blood off my face. The bastard I was sparring with got a few lucky shots in. What can I say, I was distracted. It also may have been that I underestimated his ability to actually land a punch. And my face was paying the price for it.

"Jace, hold up". I hear Blake yell out to me.

Blake is one of the sadistic bastards who ran this training facility.

I stopped and turned immediately, giving him my full attention. Blake was not somebody you wanted to show disrespect to, unless you didn't want your own mom to recognize your face that is.

"Whats up sir?" I'm still wiping up the blood as he approaches.

" That" He gestures to my face. "You fucking new here or something pup?" He crosses his arms over his muscular chest, and the display is aggressive enough that I take a step back.

" Sorry sir, I guess I'm just having an off day".

" You guess??" He yells in my face. "Cause if I had to guess I'd say the top student here just willingly got his face beat to a pulp. Have you forgotten basic self defense pup?"

Shit. He's yelling loud enough now that we've drawn a crowd.

"No sir" Thats all I manage to say before I see his huge fist come flying towards my face.

I dodge the impending hit, but apparently he isn't done. He continues to swing at me, in a flurry of motion, and although I manage to avoid getting hit in the face, he lands one in my left rib cage.

All of the air is instantly stolen from my lungs, making it burn as I try to draw air in. Fuck, there's definitely broken rib.

I don't have a chance to let my guard down though , as he keeps coming at me. I know what he's looking for and he won't stop until either I land a hit on him or I'm unconscious on the ground.

Yup, thats how these bastards work.

After several more attempts, on his part, to land the final blow, I see an opening. I swing with what little energy I have left.

CRACK

My fist lands squarly on his jaw. Thank fuck. Cause any longer and I definitely would have been facing the option number 2.

Great, now blood is running off my right hand as that hit split a few of my knuckles wide open.

But I don't dare move an inch. I'm not stupid, nor do I have a death wish. I've made this mistake once before, only once.

After staring me down for what felt like an hour, but in all reality was maybe thirty seconds, his face splits into a huge grin, showing his front teeth that are covered in blood. Glad to know more than just my hand felt that one.