HARPER'S POV
I can feel his eyes on me again.
It's like a heat crawling down my back like someone pressed a hand to my spine and is holding it there. I'm not even looking, but I know it's him. Asher. His stare is always heavy, sharp like he's trying to see right through me. Like he's searching for something I haven't shown anyone since my pack burned.
I punch the training dummy harder. My knuckles throb but I don't stop. My hoodie is soaked with sweat, stuck to my back, my neck, my chest—god, I hate how it clings. I should stop. I should cool off. But I don't.
Because he's still watching.
It's just me out here, alone at the back of the field. Everyone else went in after drills, the sun dipping behind the trees, the sky going that weird golden orange that makes everything l
