Chapter 10
Devon
By the time we got back to Carter’s cabin, it was already dark. The porch light flickered to life as the truck engine went quiet.
For a while, neither of us moved, with only the sound of insects and the faint creak of cooling metal between us.
Then I sighed and pushed the door open. “Come on,” I said, hopping out.
Carter gave a small grunt of agreement and followed me to the back of the truck. I started pulling down the bags of soil, one at a time, stacking them neatly by the steps.
“Let me—” Carter started, reaching for one.
“I got it,” I cut in, hefting another bag down. “Actually, why don’t you go heat up the food? I’ve got this.”
He gave me a look, part amused, part concerned. “You’re hungry now?”
“Starving.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “My mom packed some food for us. It’s in the fridge.”
“You sure you don’t want help out here first? We can get this done faster.”
“I insist,” I said, planting another bag by my feet. “You reheat, I unload. Division of labor.”
He hesitated. “How long should I—?”
“Uh… max heat? Five or six minutes,” I said, already turning back to the truck.
Carter blinked. “That sounds excessive.”
“It’ll be fine,” I muttered, doubting he heard me. He lingered for a second before shaking his head and heading inside.
Once the door closed behind him, I quickly stacked the last of the bags and tore off the tags from the baseball bats.
I grabbed one and swung once, twice, feeling the air move. I lined up one of the bags and gave it a solid hit. A puff of soil dust rose and drifted in the porch light. Perfect.
The door creaked open behind me.
Carter stepped out holding a plate, looking sheepish. “I think I messed up. It’s a little dry,” he said, then noticed what I was doing. “What’s this?”
I leaned on the bat, grinning. “Therapy.”
“Therapy.” He stared at the setup, then back at me. “And this helps?”
I shrugged. “Depends. Anyway, doctor’s orders.”
“Right,” he murmured, still looking at the bags skeptically. “But won’t those burst?”
“Nah. This brand holds up well; the seams don’t split.” I tapped one with my foot. “Took me a while to find something like this, too. Tried everything else, but this one’s the best. I’ve been doing this since our old lead alpha made me head healer. I still do it after long meetings with Cooper.”
His brows rose. “That bad?”
“Let’s just say he has strong opinions about numbers, especially when they show up in spreadsheets.”
That got a laugh out of him. I grinned and held out an extra bat. “Here. Try it.”
He eyed it like it might bite. “You’re serious?”
“Go on.”
He took it, testing the weight with a few small swings. I could see the hesitation in his shoulders. The control. Always holding himself back.
“All right,” I said. “Close your eyes. Picture whatever’s stressing you out.”
He raised a brow.
“Trust me,” I said, trying not to smile.
He huffed, but closed his eyes. I could see the faint crease between his brows, the way his jaw unclenched as he exhaled.
“Now,” I said, voice low, “imagine letting all that go. The stress, the noise, the… I don’t know, paperwork.”
A beat.
“Or,” I added lightly, “you can just think of the people you want to smash in the face.”
He snorted. “That’s more my style.”
“Good,” I said, stepping back. “Now swing.”
The sound cracked through the air. A solid, satisfying thud was followed by a sharp puff of dust.
I blinked, impressed. The bag wobbled but held firm.
When I looked at him again, Carter was breathing a little heavier, a wide grin on his face. I couldn’t stop my own smile from spreading.
“See?” I said. “Told you it works.”
“Can’t argue with results,” he said.
“Come on then,” I said, grabbing my own bat. “Let’s make it a proper session.”
He chuckled and lifted his bat again.
We took turns, swinging and striking, sending up small clouds of soil with every hit.
Each thud chased the tension a little farther away until it was just the two of us breathing hard, dust rising around us, the night air thick with sweat and laughter.
By the time we stopped, my arms ached, and Carter’s hair was sticking to his forehead. The look he gave me, amused, tired, and soft around the edges, made something in my chest twist in a way that had nothing to do with exercise.
We headed back inside the cabin and took a quick shower to rinse off the dust and sweat. When we were done, I wanted to see if he had any nicks and scratches, but Carter waved me off as I followed him to the sofa with my healer’s kit.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Don’t waste your energy healing small stuff.”
“Mm-hm,” I said, moving closer. “Turn.”
He frowned. “Devon—”
I ignored him and caught his chin before he could pull away. “Don’t argue with the healer.”
A few small splinters dotted the edge of his jaw and along one cheek. Nothing serious, just tiny reminders of how hard he’d been swinging earlier.
I hadn’t actually thought we’d go through the bats that fast, but apparently my stress therapy had a higher casualty rate than I remembered.
“Hold still,” I murmured.
I let my fingers hover just over his skin, focusing on the small cuts. The familiar hum of warmth spread from my palm.
It was always subtle, that soft push of energy when I healed, but tonight it felt different. Stronger.
Maybe because his skin was so close to mine. Maybe because I could feel his breath catch every time my thumb brushed near his mouth.
Carter’s eyes flickered once, the faintest wince giving way to a low hum. I swallowed, trying not to let the sound pull me under.
“Almost done,” I said, though my voice came out quieter than I meant.
My fingers traced along the line of his brow, the curve of his cheek, down to the edge of his jaw.
I pulled my hand back, but Carter caught it before I could move away.
“What about you?” he asked, thumb brushing over a scrape near my knuckle I hadn’t even noticed.
“It’s fine,” I said automatically.
He didn’t seem convinced. He reached for the first aid kit on the table, peeled off a small bandage, and pressed it gently over the spot.
His eyes met mine as he leaned in, the touch of his lips against my knuckle making my chest tighten.
“Better?” he asked.
I tried to pull away again, but he still had my hand. His thumb stroked my palm once before he lifted it again, kissing the center this time.
“Carter,” I said, though it didn’t sound much like a warning.
He looked up at me, his blue eyes darker now, gold flickering faintly. Something wild stirred under my skin as my wolf pushed closer, curious and drawn.
Before I could think about it, I set my hand on his shoulder. His breath hitched as I climbed onto his lap, knees bracketing his thighs. The solid heat of him beneath me made my pulse quicken.
His hand slid up my back, steady and grounding, until it rested at my nape. The kiss was firm and deep, his lips moving against mine like he’d been holding back for too long.
When he drew back to breathe, his mouth brushed the corner of mine, then trailed down to my jaw and neck.
Each kiss was unhurried, reverent almost. His nose grazed my skin, his breath warm as he inhaled deep.
I felt it too, that pull between us, instinctive and urgent. His scent washed over me, cool like rain over stone. Familiar and grounding, impossible to ignore.
He lingered there, face buried in the curve of my shoulder. When he looked up again, his eyes searched mine.
I cupped his jaw, my wolf urging me forward.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
His grip on my hips loosened as I leaned back just enough to pull off my shirt.
The cool air met my skin, and I caught the way his eyes flickered gold again, sharper this time, appreciative. It sent a flush of pride through me that I couldn’t hide.
Then I leaned in again, catching his mouth in another kiss.