After the Fight

The training field didn’t empty all at once.

It thinned slowly—clusters of wolves peeling away, voices low, glances sharper than before. Carolina could feel them. The shift in how they looked at her.

Not respect.

Not yet.

But something close.

She sat on the low wooden fence at the edge of the field, pressing her fingers lightly against her ribs. The ache pulsed with every breath, a reminder of just how hard Lyra had hit.

Worth it.

Mostly.

“You’re favoring your left side.”

Carolina didn’t look up right away.

She didn’t have to.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Yeah,” Xander replied, stepping closer. “You looked real fine getting thrown across the field.”

She shot him a look. “You want to try it?”

That almost earned a smile.

Almost.

Instead, his expression shifted—something softer slipping through the cracks of control he always seemed to hold so tightly.

“Let me see.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Carolina.”

Her name came out quieter this time.

Not a command.

Something else.

The bond pulsed.

Warm.

Insistent.

She exhaled, annoyed at herself more than him, and dropped her hand from her side.

“Happy?”

Xander stepped closer anyway.

Too close.

Before she could protest, his fingers brushed lightly against her ribs.

Carolina sucked in a sharp breath.

“Does that hurt?” he asked.

“Wow, what gave it away?” she muttered.

His jaw tightened slightly—but his touch didn’t pull away.

If anything—

It gentled.

The contact was careful now. Testing. Like he was trying to memorize where she was hurt without making it worse.

Her entire body went still.

This wasn’t the same as before.

Not like the forest.

Not like the tension-filled moments where everything felt like it might snap.

This was quieter.

Closer.

And somehow—

More dangerous.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

Carolina frowned slightly. “Do what?”

“Step in like that. You could’ve backed down.”

She shook her head. “Not an option.”

His gaze lifted to hers.

“Why?”

The question caught her off guard.

Carolina hesitated—then answered honestly.

“Because if I did, they’d be right.”

“About what?”

“That I don’t belong here.”

Silence settled between them again.

Xander’s hand stilled where it rested lightly against her side.

“You do belong here,” he said.

Carolina huffed softly. “Pretty sure your father disagrees.”

“My father isn’t always right.”

That made her look at him.

Really look at him.

There was something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before.

Not just frustration.

Not just tension.

Conflict.

“You’re going to have to choose eventually,” she said quietly.

His jaw tightened.

“I know.”

“And when you do…” she hesitated, then pushed forward anyway, “it won’t just affect you.”

The bond pulsed again.

Heavier this time.

“I’m aware,” he said.

But he didn’t move away.

Didn’t step back.

Didn’t break the contact.

Carolina became hyper-aware of everything.

The warmth of his hand.

The closeness of his body.

The way her breath had slowed without her noticing.

“This is a bad idea,” she said softly.

Xander didn’t argue.

“Yeah,” he said.

But his hand shifted slightly—

Not away.

Just… closer.

Carolina’s heart skipped.

“You’re not helping,” she whispered.

“Neither are you.”

Her lips parted slightly at that.

The air changed again.

Not as explosive as before.

Not as overwhelming.

But deeper.

The kind of tension that didn’t burn fast—

It lingered.

“You should go,” she said, even as she didn’t move.

“You first.”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “We’re really bad at this.”

“That’s because we’re not trying very hard to stop.”

That hit too close.

Carolina looked away first.

But his hand—

Still hadn’t moved.

“Xander…”

Her voice was softer now.

Unsteady.

He stepped closer.

Just a fraction.

Enough that her knees almost brushed his.

The bond surged.

Her breath caught as his gaze dropped—slowly, deliberately—to her lips.

Not again.

Or maybe—

Exactly again.

“You keep doing that,” she murmured.

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me like that.”

His eyes lifted back to hers.

“Like what?”

Carolina swallowed.

“Like you’re going to forget every reason we shouldn’t do this.”

A pause.

Then—

“Maybe I already have.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

This was it again.

That edge.

That moment where everything felt like it was about to tip too far.

“You don’t mean that,” she said—but it sounded more like a question.

Xander didn’t answer right away.

Instead—

His hand moved.

From her side—

To her wrist.

Light.

Careful.

But intentional.

Carolina’s breath hitched.

The contact sent a sharper pulse through the bond—stronger than before.

More aware.

More real.

“You feel it too,” he said quietly.

She didn’t deny it.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

The space between them shrank.

Not all at once.

Just enough.

Her pulse raced as his thumb brushed lightly against her wrist.

This wasn’t accidental anymore.

This was a choice.

“Xander—”

“Tell me to stop.”

Again.

Always that.

Carolina’s chest tightened.

Because she couldn’t.

“I should,” she said.

“But you won’t.”

Silence.

The truth sat between them.

Unavoidable.

His grip shifted slightly—not tighter.

Just… steadier.

Grounding.

Or pulling.

Maybe both.

Carolina stepped forward without meaning to.

The movement was small.

But it changed everything.

Now there was barely space left at all.

Her breath mingled with his.

The bond burned.

This time—

He didn’t stop himself right away.

His head dipped slightly—

Closer.

Closer—

“Xander!”

The voice snapped through the moment like a whip.

They both jerked back instantly.

Lyra stood a few yards away, arms crossed, expression cold and knowing.

Of course she did.

Carolina’s heart pounded—not just from what almost happened—

But from being caught.

“This is… interesting,” Lyra said slowly.

Xander’s expression hardened instantly.

“What do you want?”

Lyra’s gaze flicked between them.

Taking in the distance.

The tension.

The truth.

“Oh, nothing,” she said lightly. “Just checking on training progress.”

Her eyes landed on Carolina.

Sharp.

Satisfied.

“Clearly, you’re… improving.”

Carolina clenched her jaw but didn’t respond.

Because she knew—

This wasn’t over.

Not the training.

Not the tension.

And definitely not—

Whatever was happening between her and Xander.

Lyra turned to leave—but not before adding, just loud enough—

“Careful, Carolina.”

A pause.

“It’s a long fall from a place you were never meant to stand.”

Then she walked away.

Silence followed.

Heavy.

Uncomfortable.

Carolina let out a slow breath.

“Well,” she muttered, “that’s not going to cause problems at all.”

Xander didn’t laugh.

His gaze stayed locked on Lyra’s retreating figure.

Jaw tight.

Eyes dark.

“It already has,” he said.

Then—

His hand found hers again.

Just for a second.

Before he stepped back.

And this time—

He was the one who walked away first.

Leaving Carolina standing there—

Heart racing.

Skin still tingling.

And one thought echoing in her mind.

Next time… they might not stop.