Bella's POV
The next day's training was brutal.
Xavier didn't speak a word except to command.
"Again."
"Faster."
"Get up."
His voice cut through the air, deep and cold, while I stumbled and gasped through every move. The sun was gone by the time he dismissed me with a simple, "Enough for today."
Not a glance. Not even a word of acknowledgment.
I stood there for a moment, trembling with exhaustion and anger, watching his back as he walked away — strong, broad, unshaken. My heart thudded painfully.
I didn't know what hurt more — his cruelty or his indifference.
That night, I couldn't breathe in my own room. His silence had followed me like a shadow, thick and heavy. Every bruise on my body pulsed with his voice in my head.
I needed answers.
I needed him to look at me — to see me.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I stormed down the hallway toward his office. The door was closed, faint light spilling from the crack beneath. My pulse hammered against my ribs.
I knocked once.
No answer.
So I opened the door.
Xavier was there, standing by the window, his back to me, moonlight washing over his bare arms. His posture was sharp, coiled, like he was ready for war even in silence.
"Bella," he said without turning. His voice was low, rough. "You should be asleep."
"Sleep?" I snapped. "How am I supposed to sleep when you treat me like some… experiment? You drag me out to train until I can barely stand, then you ignore me like I don't exist!"
He turned slowly then — eyes dark, unreadable. "You exist too much, Bella."
That stopped me cold.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
He stepped closer, the air shifting. "It means you're a distraction. You shouldn't be here."
"Then why am I here?" I shouted, the words tearing out of me. "Why did you bring me if all you want is to make me miserable? You could have left me in the woods that day!"
He was quiet, his jaw tightening. The muscles in his arms flexed as if he was holding something back.
"I can't answer that," he said finally.
"Then I'll keep asking until you do." I took a step toward him. "Who am I to you, Xavier? Why do you look at me like I'm both your enemy and your—"
"Enough!" His voice boomed, echoing through the room like thunder.
But I didn't stop. I was shaking, angry, breathless — but I didn't stop.
"Tell me what I am to you!" I demanded. "Tell me why I'm here, why you look at me like you hate me one moment and can't stay away the next!"
He stared at me — long, silent, burning. And then he moved.
In a heartbeat, he was standing right in front of me, his hand gripping my wrist, not hard but firm enough that I couldn't move. His scent hit me — smoke, pine, something wild.
"Don't tempt me, Bella," he said quietly.
"Then stop pretending you don't feel anything," I whispered back.
The air between us snapped — like lightning before the rain.
Before I could think, he leaned in. His breath brushed my lips. I froze. The world stopped. And then — he kissed me.
It wasn't gentle. It was anger, confusion, heat — everything we'd both been trying to bury. I felt his hand move to the back of my neck, his touch rough, desperate. My heart raced so fast it hurt.
But just as suddenly, he pulled away.
"Xavier—" I whispered.
He cursed under his breath, eyes wild, chest heaving. "This shouldn't have happened."
I caught his arm as he turned. "Don't walk away from me again," I said, voice shaking.
He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw pain — real, raw pain — in his eyes. "You don't understand what you're asking for, Bella."
"Then make me understand!"
He stepped back, tearing himself free. "I can't."
And then he was gone — the door slamming behind him, leaving me standing there in the silence, trembling, lips burning, heart breaking.
I didn't know if I hated him for leaving… or hated myself for wanting him to stay.