Caught Between Them

The morning sun glinted off Brock’s sweat as he sparred with Sage. I watched from the sidelines, my heart doing a nervous flamenco routine in my chest. Sage, all toned arms and confident steps (for a supposed newbie), danced around him, dodging his practice sword with surprising grace. But it was the way her body brushed against his every now and then that made me want to grab a sword and yell, “Hey, personal space much?”

Then, disaster struck. Sage stumbled back, landing right in Brock’s arms. For a second, they were locked in a hug that seemed way too friendly for a training session. My breath hitched. Sage giggled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine, and stepped away, shooting me a look that could have melted steel.

“Whoa there, drama queen,” Brock chuckled, finally noticing me. “Looks like you tripped over your own two feet.”

Ignoring him, I marched over, my voice clipped. “This isn’t a flirting session, Sage. Need I remind you we’re training?”

Sage’s smile faltered for a second, but she recovered quickly. “Actually,” she said, her voice sugary sweet, “I was just asking for some pointers. Seems my escape from the rogues left me a little rusty on the swordplay front.”This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“Right,” I scoffed. “And why exactly is Mr. Perfect here your personal tutor?”

Brock shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “No harm in showing the new girl the ropes, right, Amelia?”

Before I could unleash the verbal smackdown brewing in my head, he turned back to Sage. “Alright, let’s start with the basics.” He positioned himself behind her, guiding her hands on the practice sword. The way his body brushed against hers made me clench my fists, but Brock seemed oblivious, focused on the lesson.

I watched, green with envy, as they practiced swings and stances. Every touch, every brush of their bodies felt like a tiny betrayal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Brock called it a quits.

“Thanks, handsome,” Sage purred, batting her eyelashes at him. “Think I’m starting to get the hang of it.”

“Good,” Brock said simply, his expression unreadable. “Just remember, practice makes perfect.”

Sage flashed him a dazzling smile, then turned to me, her eyes glinting with something annoyingly confident. “Maybe you could join us sometime, Amelia. I bet I could learn a lot from your skills too.”

The challenge in her voice was clear as day. I opened my mouth to retort, but Brock stepped between us, his voice low.

“Alright, that’s enough training for today, Sage. Why don’t you go freshen up? I’ll get someone else to show you around.”

Sage hesitated for a moment, then nodded curtly and walked away. The second she was out of sight, I whirled on Brock, my frustration bubbling over.

“Dude, seriously?” I hissed. “Don’t you see what she’s doing? It’s like she’s glued to you!”

Brock leaned against the training dummy, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Whoa, chill, Amelia,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “She’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly?” I practically shrieked. “Friendly doesn’t involve practically making out with you in the middle of training!”

My outburst hung in the air, the weight of my jealousy heavy in the silence. Brock’s smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of amusement that quickly morphed into something more serious.

“Amelia,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Sage stumbled. I caught her. That’s it.”

“And the way she was practically clinging to you while you showed her the sword?” My voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt. “That wasn’t an accident either.”

Brock sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look,” he said, his voice gentling, “I appreciate your… protectiveness, but you’re being childish. Sage needs help learning to defend herself. That’s all that’s going on.”

“Is it?” I challenged, my voice barely above a whisper. “Because it sure seemed like she was enjoying the attention a little too much.”

He gave me a long, searching look, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something deep in his green eyes maybe annoyance, maybe something else entirely.

“Let me tell you something, Amelia,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Sage fleeing a rogue pack sounds fishy. Doesn’t it?”

My breath hitched. “You think she’s lying?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But one thing’s for sure she’s not here for swordplay lessons.”

The revelation stunned me. Could he be right? But then what was Sage’s game?

Before I could voice my newfound suspicion, Brock did something unexpected. He cupped my face in his calloused hands, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“You don’t have to worry about Sage, alright?” he said, his gaze locking onto mine. “You and I, we have something special. Don’t let anyone, or anything, make you forget that.”

Then, before I could react, he leaned down and kissed me. It was a fleeting kiss, sweet and tender, but it sent a jolt of electricity through me, chasing away the doubts and insecurities that had been swirling in my head.

“Now,” he said, pulling back with a mischievous wink, “how about we show Sage just what a real sparring session looks like?”

The playfulness in his voice pulled me back from the edge of panic. But a tiny seed of suspicion remained, stubbornly nestled in my heart.

The rest of the training session passed in a blur. We sparred with a fierceness that surprised even ourselves, the unspoken tension between us fueling our movements. Every clash of swords, every breathless exchange sent a thrill through me.

Finally, as exhaustion began to set in, Brock called it quits. He gave me a lopsided grin, then turned towards the clearing just as Sage reappeared.

“Ready for another round?” he asked, a playful challenge in his voice.

But Sage didn’t respond. Instead, her gaze landed on me, a sharp glint in her eyes. A knowing smile played on her lips, a silent victory dance that sent a fresh wave of irritation through me.

“Actually,” Sage said, her voice dripping with sweetness, “I think I’ll take a rain check today. Seems I have a bit of catching up to do with some of the other pack members.”

She shot me another pointed look before turning and disappearing into the woods. Brock watched her go, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he turned back to me.

“Let’s go get some lunch,” he said, his voice neutral. “I’m starving.”

I followed him, the echo of Sage’s smirk burning in my mind. Maybe Brock was right. Maybe I was being childish. But the feeling of unease wouldn’t leave me. The new arrival in our pack was more than just beautiful. She was a puzzle waiting to be solved, and I had a feeling it was a puzzle that wouldn’t be easy to unravel.