Chapter 14 Feelings
Elena’s POV
Sarah left me at the entrance of the gym with my nerves.
I walked into the gym. It looked really big and had a lot of equipment.
The place was quiet, I wondered if I was early, until I saw him.
Those broad shoulders moving as he worked out and his back clung with sweat.
Liam kept punching the bag, he didn't know I was there.
I kept staring at his body, he had taken off his clothes from earlier and was in shorts, his chest was bare. He looked really good without his clothes.
“So you are just going to stand there and stare at me right?”
I looked away, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. “I wasn't watching you,” I muttered, knowing he wouldn't believe me.
He looked at me, over his shoulders and smirked, going back to hitting the bag.
“So what am I supposed to do,” I looked around, moving from one feet to another, I was getting nervous.
Stop it Elena. I told at myself. It's fine, you are just here to practice.
He didn't answer my question, just kept on doing his own thing.
I picked up some gloves and started putting them on.
I thought about just doing exactly what he was doing,but before I could start.
He turned to face me, dark eyes dragging over me in a way that made me hold my breath.
Not crude. Not disrespectful. Just… thorough. Like he was assessing me.
“You look tense, Elena,” he said.
“I’m not,” I lied.
One brow lifted. “You are.”
I crossed my arms defensively, he had just ignored me and now was arguing with me.“This was your idea.”
“And you agreed,” he replied easily. “Which means you want this.”
Did I?
I wasn’t sure anymore.
He walked closer, each step unhurried, deliberate. I could feel him before he even touched me. My body reacted immediately, nerves buzzing, awareness sharpening.
“Training is not just about strength,” he said, as he stopped a few steps away from me. “It is about control.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my hands.
“Remove the gloves.”
I paused for a second, then removed them, putting them aside. My fingers trembled slightly, and I hated that he noticed.
“You have to listen to your body,” he said. “Don't push yourself too much.”
He circled me slowly, not saying anything. Just attention. Focus.
“Keep your legs apart, make sure you feel balanced,” he insisted. “Knees loose.”
I adjusted.
“Relax your shoulders.”
I tried. Failed.
He stopped behind me.
“Calm down, Elena.”
His voice was lower now, closer. I felt his presence at my back without him touching me, and somehow that made it worse.
“Again.”
I inhaled.
Slow.
Exhaled.
“Better,” he said softly.
Then his hands were on my shoulders.
Not gripping. Just resting. Warm. Heavy. Grounding.
Every nerve in my body lit up.
“Don’t lock up when someone gets close,” he continued. “That’s when you lose.”
He slid one hand down my arm, adjusting my elbow, the other guiding my wrist. His touch was professional, but it didn’t feel that way.
It felt intimate.
Too intimate.
“Now,” he said, stepping away, “come at me.”
My heart stuttered. “What?”
“Slowly,” he added. “I won’t hurt you.”
That didn’t reassure me at all.
I moved forward hesitantly, lifting my hands like Sarah had shown me. I barely made a move before Liam shifted, catching my wrist effortlessly and twisting just enough to make me gasp.
I stumbled forward—and he caught me.
One arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against him.
Too close.
Way too close.
“Careful,” he murmured near my ear. “You fall like that in a real fight, you don’t get back up.”
I tried to step away.
He didn’t let me.
“Let’s try that again,” he said.
I bristled. “You’re cheating.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Maybe I am.”
I lunged this time, frustration fueling me. He blocked easily, guiding my momentum past him, his hand firm on my hip as I spun.
I lost my balance.
Again.
He caught me again.
This time, his grip lingered.
His chest was solid behind me, his breath brushing my temple. I could feel the tension in him now — restrained, controlled, but very much there.
“You’re thinking too much,” he said quietly. “Stop trying to be what you think you should be.”
I swallowed. “Then what should I be?”
His answer came immediately.
“Present.”
He released me abruptly, stepping back.
“Again.”
We went at it over and over.
I failed more times than I succeeded. But something changed. My movements grew faster. My reactions are sharper. When he came at me, I dodged without thinking.
I actually dodged.
I saw an opening and struck, not hard, but enough to make contact.
He stopped.
For half a second, the entire room was silent.
Then he smiled at me, he looked proud.
“Good,” he said.
That single word did something dangerous to me.
He attacked next — faster, sharper. I blocked one move, barely avoided another, my breath coming harder now. When he swept my legs, I went down with a yelp.
He was over me instantly.
One knee between mine. One hand braced beside my head.
Trapped.
My heart hammered so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
“You okay?” he asked, voice rougher now.
I nodded. Too quickly.
His gaze dropped — to my lips.
Then snapped back to my eyes.
Something unspoken passed between us.
He stood, pulling me up effortlessly. My fingers brushed his wrist, and the contact sent a jolt through me like lightning.
“Training over,” he said abruptly.
“What?” I protested. “I was getting better.”
“I know,” he replied.
That didn’t sound like a compliment.
He turned away, dragging a hand through his hair like he was trying to regain control of something dangerous.
“You don’t understand what you do to the room,” he said quietly.
I stared at his back. “I didn’t do anything.”
He laughed — short, humorless.
“That’s the problem.”
Silence stretched between us, I really didn't know what to think of him sometimes.
Then he faced me again.
“I was invited to a party,” he said, tone deliberately casual. “Council-related. Political.”
My stomach dropped. “Oh.”
“I need a date.”
Oh.
My heart skipped.
His gaze locked onto mine.
“I want you to come with me.”
The words settled slowly, heavily.
“As my date,” he added.
I blinked. “You… want me there?”
“Yes.”
“But the elders—”
“Let me worry about them.”
I hesitated. “Why me?”
He stepped closer, stopping just short of touching me.
“Because I want the world to see what’s mine.”
Heat rushed to my face, today's doubts completely vanished.
“And because,” he continued more softly, “I don’t want to walk into that room without you.”
My heart pounded loudly.
“Yes,” I breathed before I could stop myself.
His lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile.
“Good,” he said. “Then we’re not done yet.”
“Not done with what?”
He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.
“Training.”