Chapter 113

Hannah cried out in pain as Noah’s shoulder collided with her outstretched wrist, slamming it against the hard gym floor. Tears welled in her eyes, and a whimper escaped her lips. "Ow."

Noah reacted swiftly, but not as she expected. Instead of dismissing her, he muttered a curse, sat up, and shifted his weight, allowing her to breathe. His gentle fingers circled her wrist, concern flickering across his handsome features. "Hannah? Are you alright?" His worried tone made her pause. She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears.

For several moments, Noah hovered over her, his large frame protectively surrounding hers as he cradled her injured wrist. His brow furrowed as he saw the tears streaming down her face. "I-I'm fine," she lied.

"No, you're not. Shit, I'm so sorry," he murmured, gently brushing away her tears with his thumb. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You know that, right?"

She could only nod, speechless by his unexpected tenderness—a stark contrast to his usual surly demeanor. "Let me look," he said softly, placing her wrist in his palm. He examined it, and she winced slightly when he rotated it. "It's not broken. Can you bend it?"

She nodded, bending her wrist. It moved easily. When Noah seemed satisfied, he started to pull away—then froze, his green eyes widening. He and Hannah were still entangled by the rope.

A blush crept up Hannah's neck. Noah cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing as he quickly untangled them. They helped each other, their fingers brushing as they worked.

Once free, Noah immediately focused on her. "You're sure you're alright?" he asked, his voice gruff but laced with tenderness. "I can call the doctor."

She swallowed and shook her head. "N-no, I don't think so. It just startled me."

Some of the tension seemed to leave Noah's shoulders. He cradled her hand, his touch making her heart pound. "I hope you know that I would never intentionally hurt you, Hannah," he said softly. "No matter what happens between us… you have to know that."

His gaze held hers, leaving her speechless. She could only blink up at his blazing green eyes. Finally, she managed, "I know."

Noah sighed and nodded; for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a hint of a smile. Then, realizing he was still holding her hand, he dropped it, clearing his throat. His ears turned red. "Right, well… I think that's enough training for today."

They helped each other to their feet, an awkward silence falling between them. Hannah rubbed her wrist, not from pain, but from the lingering sensation of Noah's touch.

Noah retrieved his shirt. Hannah watched him, trying not to blush. Her eyes fell to his forearm—to the healed bite marks. The thought made her shudder.

"You know, I never properly apologized for… that," she said softly, gesturing to his arm. "The bite. I'm sorry."

Noah turned, one eyebrow raised. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I made you bleed. And left scars."

Noah examined the scars. He shrugged. "It's nothing," he said, pausing. "And if I'm being honest… I'm glad you did it."

"Why?"

"Because it lets me know you're capable of protecting yourself."

Her lips parted, speechless as Noah traced the faded marks. She swallowed, recalling the night vividly—the feeling of being cornered, the fight-or-flight instinct, the feral need to bite, to show him she wasn't the meek Luna he could boss around.

Finally, she found her voice. "Still, I'm sorry. You didn't do anything to warrant it, and it was an overreaction—"

"Don't," Noah cut her off, shaking his head. "I deserved it. I scared you, and you reacted as anyone should."

Silence fell again. A slight smile touched her lips, but she quelled it and looked away while Noah gathered his things.

"Let's call it a day," he said, checking his watch. "I have a meeting."

She nodded, noticing his quick return to his businesslike demeanor. It was over, she supposed. She turned and left, knowing the moment had been fleeting.

But she couldn't stop touching her wrist—not because it hurt, but because she could still feel the heat of Noah's fingers.