We start slow—standard warm-up strikes, quick footwork, nothing serious. But the tension coming from Caden is anything but calm. Every time Kellan lands a hit, I can feel Caden flinch like he’s the one being hit. I’m not doing much better. Every time Caden blocks a punch from his own sparring partner—some poor mated guy named Reid—I have to imagine the guy is a toddler he’s shielding from danger just to stop myself from losing it.
Then Kellan goes for a sweep.
I leap into a counter, twist mid-air—and he catches my legs. Just a clean move. No intention behind it. But now my thighs are wrapped around his waist as we’re both frozen mid-motion.
And that’s when it happens.
A snarl cuts through the air like thunder. “Put her down!”
The growl is so guttural, so primal, it makes every head in
