Page 34 of Mate Night Snack
He was the only thing in this town that made her feel tethered and she couldn’t explain why that was.
Katniss closed the journal and stretched, her limbs still sore from the strange energy that had followed her like a storm the day before. A pulse of it still tugged at her ribs.
She moved on instinct now more than she wanted to admit. But instincts were all she had in a place like this.
By the time she stepped outside, the morning mist had curled low over the garden. The sun hadn’t risen past the treetops, and the dew still clung to the porch steps. Emmett was already waiting at the back clearing near the edge of the inn’s property, arms crossed, flannel sleeves rolled to his elbows.
“Sleep?” he asked.
“Define sleep,” she said, jogging toward him. “If you mean a series of half-conscious panic naps broken up by visions of talking forests, then yeah. Fantastic.”
He actually smiled. Not the twitch at the corner of his mouth kind. A real one.
“Good,” he said. “We’ll train light this morning. Build from there.”
She blinked. “Train?”
“You want to survive out here, you need to learn how to defend yourself. The charm helps. So will I.”
Katniss tilted her head. “You mean, like… fighting?”
“Hand-to-hand. Situational. I can’t teach you to shift, but I can teach you how not to freeze if something gets close.”
She wrinkled her nose. “This isn’t going to turn into some weird woodland CrossFit, is it?”
He raised a brow. “You’re free to run laps after.”
She groaned, pulling her hair back into a messy knot. “Let’s just get this over with.”
They started slow.
Stance. Balance. Footwork.
Emmett explained everything with the patience of someone who rarely spoke unless he meant it. His hands brushed her waist once to correct her center, and she nearly forgot how to breathe. His palm at her shoulder to shift her guard felt like a branding iron.
Not because it was romantic, but because it washim.
Grounded. Steady. Watching her like she wasn’t just a student but something breakable he didn’t know how to keep from cracking.
“Stop thinking,” he said when she flinched at a feint. “You’re leading with your brain. That’s why you hesitate.”
“Newsflash,” she muttered, wiping her brow. “My brain’s the only thing that’s kept me alive.”
“Not anymore,” he said. “Out here, instinct matters more.”
They circled again. He lunged at her and she dodged him. Barely.
He smirked. “Better.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t gloat.”
Then he swept her leg. She hit the ground with a sharp grunt and landed flat on her back in the damp grass.
“Ow.”
“You’re too upright,” he said, crouching beside her. “Your center’s too high.”
“Maybe yours is just low because you’re built like a damn tree trunk.”
