Control

Carolina didn’t leave the training field right away.

She couldn’t.

The energy still buzzed beneath her skin—like something alive, restless, waiting to be called again.

Wolves lingered at the edges of the clearing, pretending not to stare.

But they were watching.

They were all watching now.

Carolina exhaled slowly, flexing her fingers as if she could shake the feeling loose.

It didn’t work.

“You’re going to lose it if you keep trying to push it down like that.”

Her head snapped up.

Xander.

Of course it was him.

He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, but his posture was tense—alert. Like he was ready to step in if something went wrong.

“I’m not losing anything,” she said, even though her voice came out tighter than she wanted.

His brow lifted slightly.

“Your heartbeat says otherwise.”

Carolina rolled her eyes. “Great. Glad to know I’ve lost all privacy.”

“You felt that too,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm.

She hesitated.

Then nodded.

“It’s like…” she struggled for the words, “like it’s right there. But I don’t know how to hold onto it without it… exploding.”

Xander’s expression shifted.

More serious now.

“Come on.”

He turned and started toward the tree line.

Carolina frowned. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere you won’t take half the pack down with you if you mess this up.”

She huffed—but followed.

—

The forest swallowed them quickly.

Cool shade replaced the harsh light of the training field, and the sounds of the pack faded behind them.

Carolina slowed as they reached a small clearing—quiet, hidden, familiar.

Her chest tightened slightly.

“This is where—”

“I know,” Xander cut in.

Their first night.

Their first shift.

The beginning of everything.

The air felt different here.

Charged.

“Okay,” he said, turning to face her. “Try again.”

Carolina blinked. “That’s your big plan?”

“Do you have a better one?”

She crossed her arms. “Yes, actually. Avoid it completely and pretend I didn’t just almost lose control in front of your entire pack.”

Xander stepped closer.

“Not an option.”

The bond stirred again—aware of the proximity, the tension.

Carolina swallowed.

“Fine,” she muttered.

She closed her eyes.

Breathed in.

Out.

Reached.

Nothing.

Her frustration spiked instantly.

“I can’t—”

“Stop trying to force it.”

Her eyes snapped open.

“That’s exactly what your father said and it didn’t help.”

“I’m not my father.”

The words came out sharper than expected.

Carolina stilled.

Neither of them spoke for a second.

Then—

“Then help me,” she said quietly.

Something shifted in his expression.

He stepped closer.

Closer than before.

Carolina’s pulse jumped.

“Again,” he said, voice lower now. “But this time—you don’t do it alone.”

Her breath caught slightly.

“What does that mean?”

Instead of answering—

Xander reached for her.

His hands settled on her arms—firm, steady, grounding.

Carolina froze.

The contact sent a sharp pulse through the bond.

Stronger than before.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Giving you something to anchor to.”

His voice was quieter now.

Closer.

“Focus on me.”

That wasn’t helping.

At all.

Carolina let out a shaky breath.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Probably.”

He didn’t move away.

Neither did she.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

She hesitated—

Then obeyed.

Darkness again.

But this time—

She wasn’t alone in it.

She could feel him.

Right there.

His hands steady on her arms.

His presence surrounding her.

The bond reacted instantly.

Warmer.

Stronger.

“Now breathe,” he murmured.

She did.

In.

Out.

“Don’t chase it,” he continued. “Let it come to you.”

Carolina tried.

And slowly—

There it was.

That same pull.

That same presence beneath the surface.

Her wolf.

But this time—

It didn’t feel wild.

It felt…

Calmer.

“Good,” Xander said softly.

His thumbs shifted slightly against her arms—small, absent movements that somehow made everything more intense.

Carolina’s breath faltered.

“Don’t get distracted,” he warned.

“Then stop doing that,” she muttered.

A hint of amusement flickered in his voice.

“Doing what?”

She ignored that.

Focused.

The energy built again—but slower this time.

Steadier.

She could feel it moving through her, not exploding outward—

But settling.

Controlled.

“I think I’ve got it…” she whispered.

“Hold it.”

She tried.

And for a moment—

She did.

Everything aligned.

Her senses sharpened.

Her breathing steadied.

Her wolf… listened.

Carolina opened her eyes.

Xander was already watching her.

Close.

Too close.

Neither of them moved.

“You did it,” he said quietly.

Her lips parted slightly.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

But neither of them stepped back.

Because something else had shifted too.

The bond wasn’t just steady now.

It was pulling.

Carolina became acutely aware of everything.

The way his hands still rested on her arms.

The way their bodies were only inches apart.

The way his gaze dropped—

Slowly—

To her lips.

Her heart slammed.

Not again.

Or maybe—

Exactly again.

“You’re losing focus,” she whispered.

“So are you.”

That was fair.

But neither of them fixed it.

Instead—

Xander’s grip shifted.

Not tighter.

Just… closer.

One hand sliding slightly down her arm.

Carolina’s breath hitched.

“That’s not helping,” she said, but there was no real resistance in it.

“Neither is this.”

His voice dropped lower.

And then—

He stepped closer.

The last inch between them disappeared.

Carolina’s back instinctively brushed against the tree behind her.

Trapped.

Or maybe—

Held.

The bond surged—strong, demanding, impossible to ignore.

“Xander…” she breathed.

“Tell me to stop.”

Always that.

Her chest tightened.

Because she couldn’t.

“I should,” she whispered.

“But you won’t.”

Their breaths mingled.

His forehead nearly brushed hers.

“So this is what happens?” she murmured. “You help me control it and then completely ruin it?”

A faint smirk touched his lips.

“Seems like a fair trade.”

Her heart stuttered.

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

And he wasn’t.

Not really.

Because the tension between them wasn’t light anymore.

It was heavy.

Real.

Dangerously close to snapping.

Carolina’s hand lifted—hesitant at first—

Then rested lightly against his chest.

The contact sent another sharp pulse through the bond.

Stronger.

Deeper.

Xander inhaled sharply.

“Careful,” he said.

“Why?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“Because I’m already at my limit.”

That did it.

The last thread of control frayed.

Carolina leaned in—

Just slightly.

Enough to close the space.

Enough that—

Their lips were a breath apart.

This was it.

Again.

That moment.

That line they weren’t supposed to cross.

And this time—

Neither of them moved away.

The bond burned.

Her pulse raced.

His hand tightened slightly against her arm.

“Carolina…”

But it wasn’t a warning.

It was her name.

Like a question.

Like permission.

And she almost said yes.

Almost closed that final inch—

But something in her snapped back.

Reality.

Consequences.

Everything waiting on the other side of that moment.

Carolina pulled back suddenly.

Breathing hard.

“We can’t,” she said.

The words hurt.

Xander didn’t argue.

But he didn’t step away right away either.

His forehead rested briefly against hers.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

But it didn’t sound like agreement.

It sounded like restraint.

Forced.

Reluctant.

After a second, he stepped back.

The space between them felt colder instantly.

Carolina wrapped her arms around herself, trying to steady her breathing.

“That… worked,” she said weakly.

A faint huff of amusement left him.

“Yeah,” he said. “We should probably focus on that part.”

She almost smiled.

Almost.

But the tension still lingered.

Because they both knew—

Next time—

They might not stop.