I lean forward slightly; drawn by something I can’t resist. His hand slides over mine, warm and solid. The touch sends electricity through me as we both move closer, the distance between us shrinking until I can feel his breath against my lips.
Just as our lips are about to touch, Callum’s phone buzzes sharply against the table—the emergency tone. We both jerk back, the moment shattered. His jaw tightens as he grabs it.
“Montgomery,” he answers, voice rough. His expression shifts to focused attention. “Yes. I understand. We’ll handle it.” He hangs up and turns to me. “That was Grant. Weather forecast just updated—even warmer than expected. We need to adjust the cold-keeping zones.”
“Right,” I say, my voice unsteady as I reach for the map. “We should recalculate the positions.”
We both pretend to focus on the new problem, but the interrupted moment hangs between us. When our hands accidentally touch again over the map, we both pull back quickly.
“I think that covers everything,” I finally say, gathering the papers. “We should get some sleep before tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Callum agrees, rubbing the back of his neck. “Big day.”
We stand, both aware of what almost happened. The Lodge feels too quiet, the space between us charged with unresolved tension.
“I’ll walk you back,” he says, his voice rougher than usual.
“You don’t have to—“
“I know.” But he’s already moving toward the door, holding it open for me.
The night air is crisp against my skin as we step outside. Our footsteps crunch softly on the gravel path leading to the cluster of cabins. Mine sits at the edge of the clearing, far enough from the others to give me space but close enough to feel part of the pack.
We walk in silence, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between us. When we reach my porch steps, we both stop.
“Well,” I say, turning to face him. “This is me.”
“Yeah.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, jaw tight. “Lyanna ...”
I wait, but whatever he was going to say dies on his lips.
“Goodnight, Callum,” I say softly, climbing the first step so we’re nearly eye level.
“Goodnight.” His burnt amber eyes hold mine for a moment longer than necessary, and I see the war playing out behind them—duty against desire, protection against trust.
Then he steps back, and the spell breaks.
I watch him walk away, his broad shoulders tense beneath his jacket, before slipping inside my cabin and closing the door between us.
Chapter 11
Callum
Icheck the radio once more, confirming all volunteers are in position along the course. The snow beneath my boots feels perfect—firm but not icy—thanks to our vampire cold-keeping solution. I catch Nyxiana’s eye across the course and give her a subtle nod of appreciation.
“First team ready in three minutes,” I announce, watching Lyanna efficiently process the final safety checks with our competitors.
The ski-joring course stretches before us—a winding track where two-person teams will race: one rider on horseback pulling their partner on skis behind them via towline. It’s a test of speed, coordination, and trust between teammates as they navigate turns and obstacles together.
Lyanna and I move in perfect synchronization. When she gestures toward a loose harness on one of the horses, I’m already striding over with the replacement before she can ask. When I notice a spectator edging too close to the course, she’s redirecting them with gentle authority.
“Course is clear,” I confirm, our radios humming with volunteer confirmations.
Lyanna brushes past me, clipboard in hand. “Equipment final check complete. All riders briefed on safety protocols.”
Her scent—honey and wildflowers—cuts through my focus. Last night’s almost-kiss flashes through my mind. The way she’d looked at me on her porch steps, waiting. The way I’d stepped back instead of forward.
I push it aside. Not now.
