Page 57 of Iron Beneath the Snow

He corrected immediately, reclaiming the space.

“You’re beginning to anticipate,” he said, his voice low enough that it would not carry beyond her.

“And you’re beginning to rely on repetition,” she replied, just as quietly.

He closed the distance again, this time forcing their blades into contact, holding the pressure rather than releasing it.

The space between them narrowed.

Her breath brushed his jaw, warm despite the cold air, and for a moment the proximity carried something that had nothing to do with training. The sensation did not register as pain or exertion, but as a kind of interference—an overlap that resisted clean separation.

He disengaged first.

Not abruptly, but with measured control.

Air returned to the space between them, and with it the wider sounds of the yard.

“Again,” he said, his tone even.

They resumed.

This time the exchange carried less demonstration and more intent. The strikes came faster, the adjustments sharper, each movement testing rather than illustrating.

On a pivot, her footing slipped—only slightly, the sole of her boot catching against worn stone. The imbalance would have corrected itself, but not before he reached her.

His hand closed around her forearm, steadying rather than restraining.

The contact was brief.

But it was enough.

Something registered again—not sharply, not dramatically, but with a clarity that was difficult to ignore. His grip adjusted without conscious thought, steadying her before releasing it.

A few of the wolves at the edge of the circle noticed the pause.

Soren let go immediately.

“Keep your footing,” he said, his voice neutral.

Eira straightened without lowering her gaze.

“I had it,” she replied.

There was no apology in her tone.

He ended the exchange without extending it further.

The circle dissolved quickly, the surrounding wolves returning to their own rhythms as the yard filled again with movement and sound.

Soren stepped aside, wiping the sweat from his hands. The residual heat beneath his sternum had not fully dissipated, though it no longer demanded immediate attention.

Eira approached him without hesitation.

“You changed the tempo,” she said.

“I adjusted it,” he replied.

“In response to me.”