Caelan's POV
The evening air was cool and smelled like pine after the day's training. Most of the pack had already left for dinner in the hall, and their voices echoed like distant thunder through the walls. I stayed behind, leaning against the edge of the courtyard and watched her.
Aisla.
She had not noticed me yet. She laid by the wall and combed the grass with her fingers as she stretched out the stiffness from sparring. Stray strands of hair had slipped free from her braid, clinging to her sweaty cheeks. Her movement was definite now and less frantic than when she first started training weeks ago. She moved steadily now, with purpose.
I felt a strange warmth spread in my chest as I watched her. It was not just the pull of the bond thrumming between us like a string, but something more fragile. Something I did not want to say out loud.
She lifted her head then, and her eyes met mine. I watched as a smile spread slowly on her face.
"You stayed," she said as she sat up.
