Page 72 of Specter Bred

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation. “But you should try it.”

"Why me? You’re way faster!"

“Because you clearly have a death wish,” I said, smirking.

We both knew I was referring to his argument with Grizzly the week before. I'd been giving him shit about it nonstop ever since. At first, because it was funny, then because the more I thought about it, the less funny it became. Nobody had ever stood up for me like that before, especially not knowing how bad it could go.

Sammy had looked Grizzly dead in the eye and done it anyway. He'd risked his shot at becoming a Specter, and probably a few broken bones, just to tell Graves to back the hell off me.

If I were being completely honest, it had made me see Hayes… differently. There was something undeniably attractive about watching a beta willingly go toe-to-toe with an alpha who could rip him in half.

Especially knowing he'd done it for me.

Which was probably why I'd spent the last week joking with him about it. It was easier to tease him than to acknowledge how much I liked it.

I slowed my pace slightly, giving Hayes a chance to catch his breath. He fell into step beside me, breathing hard from the run.

His face flushed pink from exertion, while sweat dampened the collar of his uniform. The freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks were barely visible beneath the permanent sunburn he somehow maintained year-round.

Boy Scout looked exactly as his nickname suggested. Tanned skin, broad shoulders, and a boyish face that belonged on a tractor instead of at one of the most selective military training programs in the country.

He was never without a hat. Forward. Backward. Sideways. It didn't seem to matter. The hat was practically attached to his head. It helped contain his mess of sandy-blonde hair that constantly escaped from beneath it.

I still had no idea how he'd gotten away with keeping it so long without an instructor forcing him to shave it. Not that I was complaining. The shaggy hair suited him. It made him look younger and more approachable, which was probably why everyone underestimated him.

I certainly had.

Beneath all the smiles and awful jokes was someone stubborn enough to stand in front of a freight train if he believed it would protect someone he cared about.

Knowing I had become one of those people made something warm bloom in my chest. It made me softer, more feminine, and more aware of things I usually ignored. Things like the way his baby-blue eyes crinkled when he laughed. Or how he always seemed to drift toward me without realizing it, falling into step beside me no matter where we were.

As he ran beside me now, I couldn't help scenting him. I tried to be subtle, unlike most alpha pricks. Especially when the scent of his arousal rose, which called to my alpha instincts like nothing else. Hayes was always blissfully unaware of how much his scent spiked, especially at night in the small confines of our dormitory.

For someone who'd spent years trying to prove I was just as strong, just as capable, and just as dangerous as every man around me, there was something unsettling about how much I enjoyed being looked at differently by Hayes.

He certainly didn't look at me as if I were fragile. Just... worth protecting, and that made my pulse stumble.

"Maybe if he's really asleep, we can sneak out of here and leave Gravedigger passed out all night."

I barked out a laugh.

"Gravedigger?"

Sammy grinned.

"Yeah."

"That's a new one."

"And highly creative, thank you very much."

I rolled my eyes.

"What's the logic behind that masterpiece of a nickname?"

"Well, his last name is Graves."

He gestured toward our maybe sleeping instructor.