Chapter 193: I should’ve brought popcorn
The first hit was fast. Precise. Controlled.
Elena wasn’t holding back.
Dominic barely had time to dodge, shifting his stance at the last second, feeling the rush of air as her fist grazed past his jaw.
She was still as sharp as he remembered.
And maybe, just maybe, he liked that.
He retaliated—a quick block, a feint, a counter.
But Elena wasn’t just fast.
She was patient. Calculated. Deadly in a way most people underestimated.
Not Dominic, though.
He had never underestimated her.
He had never been that stupid.
Zayn whistled low under his breath. "Damn, Steel’s got hands."
Liam grinned. "You surprised?"
"Not really," Zayn muttered. "Just… impressed."
James, watching with way too much enjoyment, sipped his coffee. "I should’ve brought popcorn."
Seraphina sighed, arms crossed, watching the match with a level of exasperation only she could pull off.
"This is unnecessary," she muttered.
Damon chuckled beside her. "Maybe."
Seraphina shot him a look.
Damon smirked. "But it’s effective."
And he wasn’t wrong.
Because inside the training bay, the tension between Dominic and Elena wasn’t just about skill.
It was something else.
Something they had never dealt with.
And now?
Now it was coming to the surface with every punch, every block, every calculated move.
Elena moved like she had something to prove.
Dominic moved like he had something to settle.
The fight wasn’t just physical.
It was decades of unspoken history, of choices neither of them had been given, of words left unsaid when they should have been spoken.
She threw a sharp elbow—Dominic caught her wrist.
He twisted—she countered, sweeping his leg.
He fell.
She pressed forward—too close now, hovering over him, one knee pinning his side.
The room was silent.
Dominic exhaled, his chest rising and falling just slightly faster than before.
Elena, looking down at him, didn’t smirk.
Didn’t taunt.
Didn’t move.
Because something about this?
It felt like a line neither of them wanted to cross.
And yet—they were already too far in to turn back.
Dominic smirked—slow, amused.
"Alright," he muttered, his voice lower now. "Maybe you’ve still got it."
Elena arched a brow. "Maybe?"
Dominic shrugged beneath her. "I was being generous."
Elena exhaled, shaking her head, but she didn’t move.
Neither did he.
And for one brief second, the past didn’t feel so far away.
Then—
A loud, dramatic cough from outside the training bay.
Liam, standing at the glass wall, smirked. "So… you two done? Or should we give you a room?"
Zayn snorted. "I think this is the room."
Seraphina sighed. "They are never going to let this go."
Damon chuckled, arms crossed. "Nope."
Elena finally exhaled, pushing off of Dominic, stepping back.
Dominic sat up, rolling his shoulders like he hadn’t just been pinned to the floor.
He ignored Liam, ignored Zayn, ignored the knowing look James was giving him.
Instead, he looked at Elena.
And for the first time in years, he said—"We’re not done."
Elena met his gaze, something unreadable flickering in her gray eyes.
Then, with a small, almost imperceptible smirk—
"Good," she murmured.
And with that, she walked away.
The group watched as Elena disappeared down the hallway, composed, poised, like the fight had been nothing at all.
Dominic stayed behind.
But they all knew—this wasn’t over.
Liam sighed. "So, anyone wanna take bets on how long it takes before they explode?"
Zayn grinned. "Metaphorically or literally?"
James smirked. "Both."
Seraphina shook her head. "You’re all ridiculous."
Damon smirked, watching as Dominic finally stood, exhaling slowly.
"Maybe," he murmured. "But we’re not wrong."
And as Dominic walked past them, heading in the same direction Elena had gone, no one missed the way his shoulders were just a little tenser than before.
Because whatever this was?
It wasn’t ending anytime soon.