A voice snapped him out of his zone. It was smooth, precise, and way too familiar. He spun around, and there she was, the woman who was totally messing with his head—and the beast inside him.
Isaldora was in a crap mood, but she had to admit, the look on Kaelith's face was hilarious.
Kaelith just froze. What the actual hell? How did he not even hear her?
"You—" He blinked, completely thrown off. "How did you even—"
She just arched a perfect eyebrow, watching him with that infuriatingly amused and unreadable look.
"I... I thought I saw you come down here," he muttered, taking a step closer without even thinking. "With someone else." The memory made his wolf snarl, but the growl died in his throat the second his eyes landed on only her.
A faint smirk touched her lips. "I went to the restroom. My apologies for not leaving a formal memo on the wall. I didn't realize my movements were so closely monitored." Her tone was dry, totally mocking.
He didn't buy it. Not even a little. But calling her out would make him look like an obsessed weirdo, and he wasn't about to hand her that kind of ammunition.
She turned to leave, her dress brushing the floor. And then—snag. The fabric caught under her heel, yanking her off balance.
Perfect. Just perfect. She braced for impact, ready to eat marble. But impact never came. Instead, a strong arm snapped around her waist and yanked her back up against a solid, broad chest. The air rushed out of her lungs in a surprised oof.
Kaelith had caught her, maybe a little too roughly. She slammed into him, her hand flat against his chest, the other hooking around his neck to steady herself.
She went completely still, her face just inches from his. She could feel the hard plane of his chest against hers, the warmth of his skin through his shirt. His fingers tightened on her waist, and without meaning to, her own grip on his neck tightened in response. A strange, electric heat flooded her veins, warming her from the inside out.
The air between them sparked, sharp and dizzying.
She was supposed to hate him. She did hate him. He was her enemy. So why the hell couldn't she move?
Kaelith just stared, his gaze locked on hers, drinking in every detail of her face. His wolf—finally, finally quiet for the first time all night. Satisfied. But now a deeper hunger stirred in its place. His gaze dropped to her lips. Without thinking, he lifted a hand and gently brushed her cheek. Her skin was impossibly soft. So damn soft. His heart hammered against his ribs. He wanted to kiss her. God, he wanted to taste her.
And then—CRASH.
The sound of something shattering further down the hall exploded through the silence, which broke the moment into a million pieces.
They jolted apart like they'd been electrocuted, both breathless and flushed, desperately pretending that whatever that was so didn't just happen.
Isaldora blinked, shaking her head as if waking from a dream. She straightened herself, trying to regain her composure.
"Goodnight, Mr. Bane." Her voice was cool but unsteady at the edges.
Kaelith's jaw clenched, eyes darkening. His voice came out rougher than he meant. "Yeah. I'll see you soon."
Isaldora stormed out of the corridor without looking back. Her heart was banging against her ribs like a damn war drum. It was going so wild she had to clutch her chest, like maybe that could ease the thrumming.
What the hell just happened?
——
Isaldora stood on her balcony, a silk robe clinging to her still-damp skin. Her celestial blonde hair dripped onto her shoulders, and the cool night air did little to calm the heat simmering underneath. She was restless, aching for something she couldn't even name—and her thoughts kept circling back to one person.
Kaelith.
Just thinking his name stirred something unwelcome in her chest.
And yet… she couldn't shake the memory. The way his fingers dug into her waist. Her breath literally caught when he looked at her. She gripped the railing until her knuckles turned white. Why did her heart go crazy like that? Why did her whole body seem to short-circuit when he was near?
She hated it.
But her traitorous heart didn't care. Even now, it clenched at the memory—his rough hands, the intensity in his eyes, that stupid spark she felt. It was like some part of her had been waiting for him this whole time.
No.
She forced herself to look away from the stars, swallowing hard. She couldn't feel this. Not for him. Not for anyone from that world. They were the enemy. But then she remembered the way he said her name—Isla. Not even her real name, and still… it sounded different coming from him. It was like there was some invisible thread tying them together, which she couldn't understand.
Her grip on the railing tightened. She could not afford to feel anything. Not when vengeance still burned in her veins.
And yet Edina's voice lingered in her mind, gentle as ever, like a whisper meant to calm storms. "Child, not everyone carries the blame. The cruelty of a few does not make the whole world guilty. Don't let their sins turn your heart against those who had no hand in it."
Edina—the elder elf who had steadied the tempest inside her when vengeance was all she craved. It was Edina who kept her from breaking, who reminded her that she was more than the ruin left behind. Isaldora would never say it out loud, but she respected that woman more than anyone. Without her, she might have surrendered to the darkness long ago, might have already burned everything to the ground without a second thought just to make it feel her pain.
Then there was Hyden. stubborn, relentless Hyden. Always pushing her to train, to focus, which she didn't see the point of, when all she wanted was to be left alone. She never quite understood why the hell he was like that, but damn, the elf was relentless. He annoyed the hell out of her most days, but now… she almost smiled thinking about his nagging.
Both of them had tried to piece her back together when she was shattered. But the hollow inside her was too deep to fill. Some scars don't fade. But they kept her from falling into the darkness. After all, what was she back then? Just a twelve-year-old broken girl—all her light snuffed out, nothing left but anger.
And yet now… after all this time… she was feeling something again. Something warm. Something alive.
Kaelith Bane. Or should she say… Kaelith Duskbane?
She had heard plenty about the Duskbanes—alphas among alphas, sitting high on the council, the very council forged by her ancestors' hands. And now she needed to know—were the Duskbanes innocent of Aetherwyn's fall… or were they just another set of hands drenched in her family's blood.
———
Isaldora sat tucked away in a quiet corner of the café, where a soft hum of stillness wrapped around her. Sunlight spilled across her table, and the peaceful atmosphere was exactly why this place was beginning to become her favorite—no noise, no crowds, just peace. Exactly what she needed after the morning she'd had.
Her head was pounding, every throb reminding her exactly who had ruined her morning. Renna.
The girl hadn't shut up once ever since they began their so-called workouts. Not one second. She spent their entire workout nagging without pause, whining over every single stretch. Squats? Too much. Crunches? Impossible, and don't even get her started on the stretches.
Isaldora pinched the bridge of her nose, her lips twitching with annoyance at the memory. Seriously? These were basic warm-ups, nothing remotely difficult. And yet Renna had managed to make it sound like she was dragging her through hell.
She was the one who said she needed to work out. So why—why, for the love of all things—couldn't she shut her mouth and just do it?
Isaldora's fingers had literally twitched with the urge to snap her neck every time. The only thing that saved Renna was Isaldora's self-control. But thanks to all that whining, her morning was officially ruined—bitter as burnt coffee and just as annoying.
Just then, the café door chimed, shifting the air.
Kaelith stepped into the quiet café, the rich smell of coffee wrapping around him. He needed his damn coffee—after the tedious early meeting, his head demanded it. He was in the city for a few important meetings, and he had another one scheduled here.
He checked his watch and placed his order, then he turned to scan the room, only to land on the person sitting in the farthest corner.
Isla Aether.
The sunlight spilled across her face like she was some painting—catching the edges of her features. But what really caught him was the look on her face. She wasn't just sitting there; she was scowling, pure annoyance rolling off her.
A faint smirk touched his lips. His client wasn't here yet… might as well say hi.
Isaldora was pulled from her thoughts by a familiar voice. She looked up, and there he was—Kaelith, standing at her table like he owned the place.
"We meet again, Ms. Aether. Surprisingly," he said.
———
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