Noah

The moment I saw her standing there, everything inside me tightened.

Maria.

Her name echoed through my mind like a quiet thunderclap, soft but powerful enough to shake something deep inside my chest.

For a split second, just one fragile, suspended moment, the world seemed to narrow until nothing else existed but the two of us standing in that doorway.

The hallway behind her faded into a blur of muted colors and dim light. The quiet murmurs of the pack house, the distant footsteps somewhere beyond the corridor, the usual life that filled these walls, all of it dissolved beneath the sudden, overwhelming roar of my own heartbeat.

It was loud.

Too loud.

Each pulse thudded heavily against my ribs, like my body had suddenly forgotten how to exist calmly in her presence.

Maria stood there, unmoving.

And somehow... she looked smaller.

Not physically. Her posture hadn’t changed, and the distance between us remained the same. But there was something about her that felt different now, softer in a way I hadn’t noticed before.

More fragile.

Like the strength she always carried around her had thinned just enough for me to glimpse what lay beneath it.

Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, the strands slightly uneven and messy, as though she had been running her fingers through it again and again. A few pieces clung to the side of her face, catching the soft light spilling from the hallway.

It made her look... restless and unsettled.

And then there were her eyes.

Those golden eyes.

Damn them.

They had been haunting me for days, appearing in my thoughts at the most inconvenient moments, refusing to leave no matter how hard I tried to push them away.

Now they were fixed on me, wide, uncertain and searching. The moment our gazes locked, something inside my chest cracked, not loudly, not violently but enough.

Enough to splinter the fragile wall of restraint I had spent the past few days desperately building. Every ounce of control I had forced upon myself suddenly felt thin.

Weak.

I wanted to move.

God, I wanted to move.

I wanted to cross the distance between us in two steps, maybe three.

I wanted to pull her into my arms and hold her there, feel the warmth of her body against mine just to prove she was real and not another cruel trick of my restless mind.

I wanted to bury my face in her hair.

To breathe her in slowly, deeply, until the restless ache inside my chest finally quieted.

Until the constant pull toward her stopped feeling like something clawing at my ribs from the inside.

But that wasn’t all.

Not even close.

I wanted to kiss her.

Hard.

Deep.

The way the thought had been tormenting me for days now. The way my wolf had been demanding with relentless persistence. The kind of kiss that would erase the distance between us. The kind that would make it impossible to pretend any of this meant nothing.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t allow myself to move even a single step closer. Slowly, deliberately, I forced my hands to remain still at my sides.

My fingers curled tightly into fists, the tension pulling painfully through my knuckles until the skin stretched pale and white.

It was the only way to stop myself.

Because I knew the truth.

If I touched her now...If I allowed myself even the smallest taste of that closeness...I wouldn’t stop.

I wouldn’t be able to.

And I needed to hold the line, even if every instinct inside me screamed otherwise.

Because this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

The competition had only just begun and I needed to win, not for pride, not to prove anything to the pack, not to silence the whispers or satisfy the expectations resting on my shoulders.

None of that mattered.

Not really.

I needed to win for her.

I needed to prove, to her and to myself, that I deserved her. That I was strong enough to stand beside her, strong enough to be chosen by her.

Because in the end, that choice would be hers and when that moment came...I wanted there to be no doubt.

Not Daniel.

Not Darren.

Not the quadruplets.

Me.

"What do you want, Maria?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain flat.

Emotionless.

I had to push every bit of feeling down before the words left my mouth, pressing them deep enough that they wouldn’t leak through the cracks. Even then, the effort felt like trying to hold back a storm with nothing but sheer will.

The question came out colder than I intended.

Sharper.

The sound of it hung in the space between us like a thin sheet of ice.

For a brief moment after I spoke, the silence that followed felt heavier than anything else in the room.

Her lips parted slightly.

"I..." she started.

The single syllable barely escaped her before she stopped again, the rest of the sentence dying somewhere behind her teeth.

Her gaze lifted to my face fully then, studying me with an intensity that made my chest tighten all over again.

For a moment, she didn’t speak.

She simply stared at me.

Like she was searching.

Reading.

Trying to find something on my face that might explain the distance in my voice.

And I knew, deep down, in that quiet place where honesty lived, that she was wondering why.

Why I had suddenly become so cold toward her.

Why the warmth that had once existed between us had vanished behind a wall of careful indifference.

Her throat moved as she swallowed.

A small, almost nervous gesture.

Then her eyes drifted downward briefly, scanning over me without thinking, until they landed on my shoulder.

The moment they did, her brows pulled together instantly.

"You’re hurt." The words left her mouth with quiet certainty, not a question, an observation.

I shrugged lightly, the motion slow and dismissive.

"It’s nothing."

The same words.

The exact same ones I had given Anabel earlier.

But hearing Maria repeat the concern made something twist painfully inside my chest. A sharp pull that I immediately tried to ignore.

Because it meant something.

And I couldn’t afford to let it mean anything right now.

Maria didn’t look convinced.

Not even slightly.

Her golden eyes narrowed just a little as she studied me, as if the simple shrug had done nothing to ease her suspicion.

"You fell from a horse," she said quietly, her voice wasn’t accusing, it was calm, almost gentle. "That isn’t nothing."

There it was again.

That stubborn concern she always carried whenever I was hurt, or who knows maybe for others to.

Damn it!

It made this so much harder than it should have been.

I shifted slightly where I stood, stepping back into the room just enough to create space between us. Just enough to put a small barrier where none had existed before. The movement was subtle but deliberate.

"I have other things to do," I said, keeping my tone steady. "I need to prepare for the next round."

For a moment, her eyes widened slightly. The reaction was quick, almost too quick to catch, but it was there.

Before I could say anything else, she stepped forward, closing the small gap I had just created.

"You don’t look well," she said again, her voice softer now, gentler in a way that felt dangerously familiar. "You’re pale. Can I at least check out your injuries?"

The moment she moved closer, my wolf stirred.

Instantly.

Her scent wrapped around me before I could stop it, warm, soft, and unmistakably hers. Sweet in a way that had already become far too familiar.

It filled my lungs with every breath, slipping past my defenses as easily as water through open fingers.

And it took everything in me not to react.

Not to reach out.

Not to grab her by the waist and pull her against me.

Not to close the distance entirely.

"I’m fine," I said again but this time the words came out sharper and harsher.

The edge in my tone was enough to make the space between us feel tense.

Her brows furrowed immediately, confusion flickered across her face, mixing with the concern already there.

"Why are you acting like this?"

Because if I don’t, I will lose control.

The truth rose sharply in my mind, clear and undeniable.

Because if I touch you, I won’t let you go.

Because I’m jealous of every man in that competition.

The thoughts came one after another, heavy and raw, pressing against the back of my throat like words that demanded to be spoken.

They were honest.

Too honest.

And that was exactly why I couldn’t say them.

If I did, there would be no taking them back. No pretending this was just about the competition or about proving something to the pack.

It would expose everything.

Every restless thought.

Every sleepless night.

Every moment I had caught myself imagining what it would feel like if she chose me.

But I said none of that.

Not a single word.

Instead, I turned away from her slightly, the movement slow but deliberate, as if physically removing myself from the weight of her presence would somehow quiet the chaos inside my chest.

My steps carried me toward the table near the window.

The bandages were still there.White cloth loosely folded beside the small bowl of water Anabel had used earlier.

I focused on them harder than necessary, forcing my attention onto something simple and ordinary. Anything but the woman standing behind me.

"I told you," I said, keeping my voice steady, my back still turned toward her. "I have things to do."

The words sounded distant even to my own ears, as if they belonged to someone else.

Silence slowly filled the room after that. It stretched out between us, thick and uncomfortable, pressing against the walls like something alive.

For a moment, I thought she would leave.

The thought lingered quietly in my mind.

I almost hoped she would.

Because this..this was torture.

Standing this close to her while pretending she meant nothing.

Pretending that every instinct inside me wasn’t screaming to turn around and pull her into my arms.

Pretending that the air didn’t feel heavier every second she remained in the room.

But she didn’t leave.

I could hear it in the faint sound of her breathing behind me. Close enough that it made my shoulders tense without me meaning to.

The quiet presence of her standing there somehow felt louder than any argument could have been.

Then her voice came again.

"You... forget it!"

The frustration in her tone was clear, not loud but sharp enough to slice through the silence.

My jaw tightened instantly.

The muscles along it locking as if my body had reacted before my mind could catch up.

"Maria," I called out.

The name left my mouth before I even realized I had spoken. For a moment after that, nothing happened.

She didn’t respond.

But I knew she was listening.

I could feel it.

That subtle pause in the air that told me she hadn’t moved yet.

Slowly, I turned.

The movement felt heavier than it should have, like something inside me was resisting the moment our eyes would meet again.

But when I finally faced her, our gazes locked instantly.

And damn it...Seeing her standing there like that, still in the doorway, still looking at me with that mixture of concern and confusion, made something deep inside my chest ache so sharply it almost stole the breath from my lungs.

She was worried.

About me.

Even after the cold way I had been speaking to her, even after the distance I had been trying to force between us.

And that simple fact pressed painfully against every wall I had built over the past few days.

It made the careful restraint feel fragile.

Temporary.

Like it might shatter if I pushed it just a little further.

I needed to know.

The thought rose suddenly, urgent and impossible to ignore.

Before this competition went any further.

Before things became even more complicated.

Before I destroyed myself trying to win something she might not even want in the first place.

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Before I could think about whether asking it was a mistake.

"Will you go back with me, Maria?"