Ascension by Kelley Armstrong Read Free Book Online

take Peter back to Dominic," Jeremy said. "What happened here—all of it—is never mentioned again. In return, I’ll allow you to train Clayton. But only under my supervision."
    "Fine by me," Malcolm said. "Who knows, you might even learn something." He looked down at me. "I’ll see you back at Stonehaven then, Clay. Make sure you rest up. We have a lot of work ahead of us, unlearning all those bad habits."
    He smiled, clapped me on the back, then turned and strolled off into the night.
    Angst
    Malcolm kept his end of the bargain and we kept ours. Jeremy negotiated Peter’s return to the Pack. Dominic never found out what happened in Los Angeles , and if he ever suspected anything, he pretended otherwise. As Jeremy had said, given the choice between reuniting a young werewolf with the Pack or executing him, Dominic would pick the former any day.
    So Malcolm taught me to fight. I still took the majority of my lessons from Jeremy and Antonio because they were around more often, but when Malcolm was at Stonehaven, he trained me every afternoon, from lunch until dinner. His motivation? Well, that wasn’t immediately apparent. He didn’t use the lessons as an opportunity to mock Jeremy; although Jeremy was always present, Malcolm acted as if he wasn’t there. Nor did Malcolm use the lessons to woo me from Jeremy’s side in any overt way. He was a harsh taskmaster and I often left my lessons exhausted and covered in bruises, but every bruise was earned in combat, and he never treated me in any way that could ever be interpreted as abusive.
    One person who was never happy with the arrangement was Antonio. I’m sure he was put out by the insinuation that his teachings were less than perfect, but there was more to it than that. When Antonio had been a teenager, Malcolm had made him the same offer: to train him. Antonio had flat out refused. When Antonio found out Jeremy had agreed to let Malcolm train me, he hit the roof. Argued with Jeremy like I’d never heard them argue before, then stomped out the door, left Stonehaven and didn’t return for nearly a month.
    When he did return, he barreled in, found us in the study and lit into Jeremy as if he’d only just left.
    "I can’t believe you’d do that. After everything that son of a bitch has done to you, I cannot believe you’d let him near Clayton."
    Jeremy laid down his book and looked up calmly. "I’m always there."
    "And that makes it okay? Goddamn it, Jeremy, you’re giving him what he wanted. You’re his son. Not me. Not Clayton. If he can’t accept you, that’s his problem."
    "So you think I’m offering up Clay as a substitute? Sacrificing him to placate my father?"
    "Hell, no. Never. You want Clay to learn how to fight. I get that. But I can teach him and you can teach him, and he doesn’t need some psycho—"
    "Yes, he does. Malcolm is the best fighter we have, and that’s what I want for Clay. To learn from the best so he can be the best, because the better he can fight, the less he’ll have to."
    "What?"
    "You heard me. The better he can fight, the less he’ll have to."
    "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
    "Exactly what it says. If you want to stay for dinner, there’s stew on the stove. Clay? Can you set the table, please?" He glanced at Antonio. "I managed to stash a few bottles of wine in the basement storage room, where Malcolm wouldn’t find them. It’s a beef stew, so red would be best, if you’d like to grab a bottle."
    Antonio threw up his hands and stomped off to the basement.
     
    So Malcolm continued to train me, and seemed happy enough to do it just for the sake of doing it, of having someplace to direct his energy when he was at Stonehaven. As the first year passed, his treatment of Jeremy changed too. Not that he treated him any better. Instead he began to extend his attitude toward Jeremy on the training grounds into our daily lives. He ignored him. Now and then, he couldn’t resist tossing off a barb or an insult, but as