Taming the Hybrid Mate: Desired by Five Alphas-Chapter 127: The field practice

Andria’s POV

"Oh my goddess, Ari, I swear this feels like an actual sports festival," Michaela said as she waved her hands in the air in a cheerleading manner.

"Damon is literally a skilled baseball player, just look at the way he handles the ball. The moon goddess got you, God-like men," Michaela squealed as she studied Damon’s movements.

I laughed softly. "Trust you to be dazzled by the show-off. You’ve got a mate, remember?"

She elbowed me. "Of course, I’m just admiring a work of art."

Damon must’ve heard, because he called out, "Eyes on me, ladies. Watch and learn how legends are made."

"More like inflated egos," I muttered, but my grin gave me away.

Aven chuckled, shaking his head. "Don’t let him fool you. He’s been waiting all year for this."

"Correction," Damon said, stepping up to the plate. "I was born for this."

He swung the bat once, just to hear the satisfying whoosh through the air. Tristan positioned himself as a pitcher without needing instruction.

Damon gave him a cocky salute, and the game began.

The first pitch flew fast, sharp, and deadly accurate. Damon swung the ball, and it sailed high over the net, disappearing into the far stretch of the field.

"Home run!" he bellowed, throwing his arms wide. "Bow to your king."

Michaela clapped dramatically, dripping sarcasm. "All hail Damon, king of inflated confidence."

I shook my head, though I couldn’t hide my smile. Damon was good. Too good. It was as if the bat was moulded for his hands.

I studied his movements and I had a moment of pride. Something about his movement made my core tingle and my heart beat faster.

Aven stepped forward next, bat balanced lightly on his shoulder. Tristan pitched again, and Aven’s swing sent the ball flying, but not as far as Damon’s, but strong enough to make other students pause mid-practice and look over.

"Not bad," Damon admitted grudgingly. "Not me, but decent."

What a proud outburst. I knew Damon was cocky and playful, but this is the most I have seen him in his element.

Aven smirked. "I’ll take that as praise."

Tristan, wordless as ever, stepped up to hit. Damon pitched this time. The sound that followed was a thunderous crack.

The ball rocketed forward like it was fired from a cannon, slamming into the net so hard it rattled the poles.

"Okay, that’s terrifying," Michaela whispered.

"See why he’s the king of football, not baseball?" Damon said sarcastically, brushing dust from his hands. "That strength belongs on the field."

Tristan gave him a flat look, which only made Damon laugh harder.

I turned to Michaela. "Come on. If we don’t run through the routine now, you’ll complain later that your legs are cramped."

"Yes, ma’am," she said, already dragging me to the side where we’d marked out a corner with cones.

We started with small, basic steps, claps, and jumps. Michaela, as always, was the spark: sharp movements, bright energy.

Me? I just tried not to look like I was having a seizure.

"Loosen your arms, Ari!" she said, spinning gracefully. "You’re stiff as a broom."

"I’m not built for this," I grumbled.

"I think no one is built for anything," she countered, "and also everyone is built for everything, especially you."

I stuck my tongue out at her, but followed along.

We moved through counts, my brain trying to keep up with the rhythm of claps and stomps.

Just when we were syncing, I felt their presence.

"Pathetic," Jackson sneered.

Becca and Arlo walked at the rear, both wearing the faces of wolves dragged into a mess they wanted no part of.

"Hey Ari," Becca waved at me, ignoring Jackson’s earlier statement. I could tell that Becca was having a tough time in her new group.

"Where is Liara?" I asked her.

"She seems to be warming up unexpectedly with the group, or rather, they seem to like her very much, even though she doesn’t reciprocate the energy," Becca whispered to me.

I had a horrible feeling about this. What was Allison and her squad planning all of a sudden?.

Damon’s smirk vanished. Aven straightened subtly, his eyes narrowing. Tristan paused, dropping his arm, which he had previously flexed.

"Well, well," Jackson said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Ashwood’s golden boys are gracing us with a performance. Should I clap?"

"Save your hands," Damon shot back. "You’ll need them to carry your team when they fall flat."

Alexa burst into laughter. "You wish. Jackson’s going to crush you."

Tricia added, "Honestly, this is just sad. You guys look desperate."

"Funny," I said, stepping forward, "that desperation looks a lot like winning."

That shut Tricia up. Alexa blinked, her mouth snapping shut as well.

Allison tilted her head, her smile sharp. "Exams are one thing, President. The field is another. Don’t confuse them."

"Both require brains," I countered sweetly, my lips twisting into a sarcastic grin.

That earned a few chuckles from nearby groups who’d stopped to watch.

Jackson fixed a calculating gaze on me. "So this is the president everyone whispers about. Interesting.

I never wanted to have a clash with you, but it seems you wouldn’t leave it be with your sharp mouth."

I never even thought that one day would come when I would be defending the Alpha successors, either. We were like cat and mouse, but in this moment, we had a common enemy.

"You talk too much," Aven said quietly, his voice slicing through the tension like a blade. "Strength isn’t in words. It’s proven."

Jackson smirked. "Then prove it."

For a second, the air thickened. Their auras clashed, Alpha successors against the rogue prince. My chest tightened under the weight of it, suffocating.

"I wonder how Allison puts up with her mate Jackson. He is such a sucker for power, and he can’t keep his eyes off other she-wolves, especially ones with power.

Today he was slightly flirting with Liara," Becca whispered to me.

I chuckled under my breath. Well, there is fire on the mountain; Allison will soon get what she deserves.

Then Tristan stepped forward slightly, and just like that, the invisible grip loosened.

Damon tilted his bat against his shoulder. "This isn’t your show, Westmoon. Back off before you embarrass yourself."

"You think you’re untouchable?" Jackson’s amber eyes gleamed dangerously. "You’re not. Not here."

"No," Aven said, calm and final. "But we don’t waste time barking. When the game begins, we’ll see who is really untouchable, rogue prince."