The Huntress Luna

Chapter 9 Heartbeat

Arya POV

I pulled my cloth tighter around my shoulders and started walking toward the warriors sleeping quarters. My legs felt stronger than they were hours ago. All I wanted was my bed, silence, darkness and no disturbance.

But as I arrived towards a sharp bend near the path leading to the inner training grounds, I froze.

Kyle was there, leaning on a wooden post as if he knew I was coming. The moment he caught sight of me, he stood up and traced his eyes to my side, where I had been wounded.

"Arya," he said, walking towards me in precise steps.

My heart reacted before my mind could. It jumped, betraying me.

He stood before me, his eyes studying me—my face, my bandage and whatever that was on his mind.

"Mira said you'd come this way," he whispered. "I came here to check on you... to see if you're okay."

"I'm fine," I said immediately, striding past him.

But he caught my arm—gently, so gently I almost pretended like I didn't feel it. His touch wasn't commanding; it was soft, careful like he was afraid I'll disappear if he held me too tightly.

"You're not fine," Kyle said softly. "And you shouldn't be walking alone."

"I don't need a bodyguard. Thank you very much." I said, rolling my eyes.

"I know." I just need to know that you're alright."

My breath froze. He shouldn't look at me like that. Like I mattered. Like I wasn't planning to destroy everything he knew.

Kyle looked around the path and back at me. "Come with me, Arya. I want to show you something. Relax, okay? It's close by. You won't have to walk far."

I was reluctant to. He must have noticed my reaction when he said, "You don't have to, if you don't want to. But I promise, it won't take long. Just let me make sure you're alright."

Something in the way he spoke—soft, almost pleading. My defenses were down before I knew what was happening.

"Fine," I muttered.

Kyle's golden eyes flickered, "This way."

He didn't take me towards the rooms. Instead, he took a turn I'd never noticed, a narrow pathway behind the training grounds. The trees thickened, blocking out most of the moonlight until we reached a small clearing I hadn't known existed.

A flat stone slab sat at the centre, half-covered with soft moss. Lanterns hung from two nearby branches, faint remnants of flame glowing inside them, as though the place was rarely used.

Kyle stepped aside to let me see.

"This is where I come to to clear my head when the world feels too loud," he said quietly. "I thought... maybe you'd like it too."

I took in a deep breath. The place felt calm, raw, peaceful. A strange feeling of stillness settled over me.

"Have a sit," he murmured. "If it hurts you to bend, I can..."

"I can sit," I said sharply, interrupting him.

But he only nodded. When I lowered myself onto the stone, I hissed under my breath. The pain radiated, hot and burning. Kyle moved instantly, kneeling beside me. His hand hovering to my side but not touching.

"Arya..."

"I said, I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he whispered. "Look, you're shaking."

"It's nothing. I'm just tired."

"And hurting..." Kyle replied.

I looked away. The lantern light cast soft gold across his face, making his features look warmer, and gentler than usual.

Kyle exhaled slowly, then beside me—close, but not touching. Giving me space. Always giving me space I didn't know how to fill.

"When I saw you today," he bagan slowly, "bleeding on the field... I thought —" His voice broke off. He shook his head, trying again. "I thought something had taken you from me."

My chest tightened painfully. "I've survived worse."

"That doesn't make me worry less."

Silence settled between us, heavy but fragile.

Kyle put his forearms on his knees, eyes fixed on the forest in front of us. "You fight like someone who doesn't care what happens to herself. Like you're not afraid of dying."

"Fear slows you down," I said, swallowing hard.

"No," he said gently. "Fear keeps you alive."

I clenched my jaw. "I don't need lectures. If I want one, I'll ask for it."

He turned, fully facing me. "I'm not lecturing. I'm scared, Arya."

My breath hitched. Scared? What could an Alpha be scared of?

Kyle's hand lifted slowly and hoovered near my cheek. "May I?"

The question disarmed me more than any touch could have. So, I gave a slight nod.

His fingers brushed my cheekbone. Light and warm again my cold skin. My heart raced painfully, and I hated how good that single touch felt. How human it made me feel.

"You should let people take care of you," he muttered, his eyes fixed on mine. "Even when you're in pain."

"I don't like to depend on anyone."

His thumb traced a slow line across my skin before he dropped his hand on his lap again. "I wish you didn't have to live this way."

I looked away, throat tight. "Kyle... what exactly do you want from me?"

"Nothing," he answered instantly. "Not answer. Not secrets. I just want..." He paused, breath unsteady. "I just want you to be safe. I want you to be here. I want to alive."

I closed my eyes. If only he knew how temporary my presence here truly was.

Kyle drew closer—not enough to crowd me, but enough for his shoulder to brush mine. Heat spread through my skin at the contact, soft and warm.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked quietly, his gaze studying my bandaged side.

"Only when I breathe." I whispered.

"Then stop pretending that you're made of stone," he chuckled lightly. "Be human. Just for tonight."

I let out a shaky breath. "I don't know how."

"Then let me help."

I wanted to pull back. To shut him out. To remember the mission. But my body leaned into him before my thoughts could catch up, just enough that my weight brushed against his.

Kyle froze—not startled. But like he was afraid to move, afraid to break whatever fragile thing I had just allowed.

Slowly, he lifted his arm and rested it behind my shoulders—not holding me, just there, warm and steady.

I let out a deep breath that I was holding for a long time. I felt drained for the first time in a long while.

We stayed like that, sitting on the moss-covered stone, the forest whispering around us, the lanterns glowing softly.

Kyle di

dn't say anything again. He didn't push. He simply stayed with me—quiet, present, ready.

And for this one stolen night, I let him.