Kane was outside again.
Training.
His fists slammed into the thick oak post in brutal rhythm crack, crack, crack. Each hit echoed through the yard, sharp and unrelenting. The wood splintered slowly under his strength, but Kane didn't stop. Didn't hesitate.
His body was a machine built for destruction.
But even machines had moods.
He was irritated. Not at anything specific just the static pressure building in his chest. Like something in this world itched at him beneath the skin.
Then he felt her.
The shift in air. The subtle chill. Her scent—roses and cold wind.
"Rosalie."
Her voice came sharp. "Do you always sense people like that?"
Kane smirked faintly, still facing the post. "Only when they're burning with emotions they don't want to admit."
He struck the post one last time—boom—then turned.
Rosalie stood in the clearing like a queen made of ice. Leather jacket, arms crossed, expression hard.
"I came to talk," she said.
Kane tilted his head. "That's not how you walk when you just want to talk."
"I came to make something clear," she snapped. "I don't want anything to do with you."
Kane gave a short laugh low, amused. "You always start conversations that way?"
"You're not like us," she continued. "You don't belong here."
"I'm standing on the same ground as you."
She stepped forward. "You're not from our world. Don't bring it up again."
Kane's eyes flashed not with surprise, but with something darker. For a moment, the smirk dropped.
He didn't reply. He didn't need to.
Rosalie stared at him, her voice sharper now. "You think you're something special? That just because Alice is curious about you, we all have to fall in line?"
"I don't think anything," Kane said. "I just know how you're breathing heavier the longer you look at me."
"I'm not interested."
"Your body disagrees."
Her fist clenched at her side. "Don't test me."
Kane stepped closer, a flash of heat behind his eyes. "Why? Because you're afraid you won't like the answers?"
"I told you—" she began.
"You told me what you wanted to believe," Kane interrupted, voice sharp now cutting like a whip. "But you came here. Alone. Angry. Breathing fast. You don't look detached. You look conflicted."
Rosalie's hands balled into fists. "You don't get to play psychologist with me."
"I'm not. I'm just observant."
Rosalie took a slow breath. "Whatever this is whatever you think it is it's not real. I won't let it be."
Kane laughed again, short and cold. "You think you can decide whether a bond is real?"
"I can decide not to act on it."
Kane stepped even closer, his jaw tightening now. Not angry at her angry at the situation. At the way the bond stirred inside him like a fire he couldn't douse.
"I didn't ask for this either," he said, voice rough. "But I feel it. Every time I walk past you. Every time you look at me like you want to rip my throat out and kiss me in the same breath."
Her golden eyes widened for half a second.
Then she snarled, "You're disgusting."
"You're lying."
That hit deeper than she wanted it to.
She turned sharply, like she meant to leave—like this had all been a mistake but Kane's voice followed her like thunder.
"You hate how much you notice me," he said, louder now, with fire in his chest. "You hate how your instincts scream when I'm around. But you can't turn it off, can you?"
Rosalie froze.
And for a moment, neither of them moved.
Then she slowly turned back, her glare fierce.
"Stay away from me," she hissed.
Kane's jaw was tight. But he gave a single nod.
"Fine."
His voice was flat. Resigned. Controlled.
Rosalie hesitated a second longer. Her emotions warred behind her golden eyes rage, confusion.
Then she vanished in a blur.
Kane was alone again.
He exhaled sharply, stepping away from the cracked post. His knuckles were red but unbroken. Just like him.
He looked down at his hands. Then let out a low laugh not amused, but bitter.
"Disgusting, huh?"
He looked up at the empty clearing, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
"She'll be back."
He could feel it.
The bond wasn't going anywhere.