Kaelith's grip loosened around her, though his chest was still heaving like he'd just run a damn marathon—and hell truth be told, even that wouldn't have left him this breathless. His breath was coming out rough, dragging in and out as he stared at her.
Isaldora's hand was still cupping his cheek, thumb brushing slow, almost on instinct, and the weight of his stare made her pulse stumble.
Kaelith's wolf was still there, simmering but he had a hold on him now. He hadn't lost control like this in years. The second she was in his arms, his wolf had ripped through his control, dragging him under before he even had a chance to blink.
He always prided himself on being in control. His wolf was savage, wild, but Kaelith had never let it rule him.
And god, he could still taste her—her skin, her lips, every detail carved into him like fire in his veins. Even through the haze, everything about her had been blindingly clear.
And yet… she'd managed to pull him back. Her hand on his face, that shaky little voice whispering against his ear—it had cut through the haze, steadying the beast just enough for him to claw his way back to control.
Now, hovering over her, he caught the sight of her flushed cheeks, chest rising and falling, those hands pressed against him like she couldn't decide if she wanted to push him away or hang on. And her lips? damn…her lips were swollen. His wolf practically howled in pride at the sight. But her eyes… hell. Her eyes didn't have single freckle of fear instead there was a certain heat there. Heat that rooted him to the spot.
He couldn't help himself and brushed his thumb slowly along her cheek, savoring the warmth of her skin. And when she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch—his chest tightened.
But then, Isaldora's eyes snapped open, reality slamming back into her. What the hell was she doing? Lying beneath him like some lovestruck fool? The thought made her stomach twist. The second she realized how she must look, pinned under him, her gaze sharpened.
Kaelith noticed the shift, confusion flickering across his face—right before— crack.
Her hand flew up and slapped him across the face, hard enough to sting.
The sound rang out sharp in the quiet. Kaelith froze, his cheek burning, more shocked than anything.
Hell yeah, Isaldora thought, staring at his so-called stunned state. Good. Serves him right. What'd he think—that I'd be jumping his bones like some desperate girl?
She shoved him off and stood up, brushing the dirt off her clothes with an annoyed huff. Her glare burned holes straight through him while Kaelith stayed sprawled on the ground like some dumbass, holding his cheek, staring at her like he couldn't process what just happened.
"Perfect. Just perfect. Now I'm covered in dirt, thanks to him," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes before turning to walk away.
For a second there, she'd almost let herself give in to that stupid pull between them—but thank the stars she snapped out of it.
Kaelith's jaw ticked, his cheek stung like hell, and his pride? Pretty damn bruised but the second he saw her walking off, he blinked himself back to reality. In a blur, he was behind her, yanking her arm and pulling her back hard against him.
Isaldora's eyes went wide for half a beat before narrowing in pure annoyance. Seriously? After the slap, she thought he wouldn't dare do anything, but nope—clearly he had a death wish asking for more. Her hand lifted, ready to land another slap, but he caught it mid-air with a sharp smirk sharp playing across his lips.
"Sweetheart, don't even try pulling that shit again." he warned, voice low and dangerous as he yanked her close. " Or I swear, I won't hold my wolf back next time."
He had her wrists pinned in one hand, his other arm locked tight around her waist.
Isaldora's jaw clenched, her patience hanging by a thread.
"Where were you?" he demanded, his eyes boring into hers.
She gave him the sweetest, fakest smile. "Didn't you see? I was right here with the kids the whole time." Her head tilted to the side a bit teasingly.
"Bullshit," Kaelith snapped. His voice dropped lower, sharper. "You weren't here. I couldn't sense your scent, or presence. You're lying."
She tilted her head, her smirk widening. "Then go ask the kids. They'll vouch for me."
"If what you are saying is true then why the hell couldn't anyone find you if you were with them?" he shot back, his grip tightening.
"Not my problem you and your mutts can't track for shit," she fired back instantly, mocking him with a raised brow. "Maybe I'm just that much better at hiding than you are at searching."
Kaelith let out a dark laugh, irritation and amusement dancing in his storm-grey eyes. "Careful with your words, darling. Even if you're my mate, I won't tolerate your disrespect."
Isaldora's smile curved sharper, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Then you better get used to it. Because I'm staying. And if you've got a problem with that, well…" She leaned in just a fraction, grinning. "I can always leave."
The second the words left her mouth, she saw the way his whole expression flipped like a damn switch. Her grin stretched wider.
"You've decided… to stay?" he asked, stunned laced with disbelief. He honestly looked like she'd just knocked the air out of him harder than the slap. He hadn't expected that. Not that he had a problem but he was expecting more stubbornness from her on that part.
Isaldora gave a bored shrug. "Maybe I just feel like making your life hell for a while. Y'know, until you finally decide to give up."
His jaw clenched so tight it could've cracked.
"But seriously, alpha? I disappear for a breath and you're losing your shit already. What's gonna happen when I actually vanish on you?"
She tilted her head, watching him with a cold sort of satisfaction. "Even if I do stay," she went on, her voice smooth but cool, "it'll be on my terms. My conditions."
She tore herself free from his hold, the sudden absence cutting sharper than any blow, and smoothed her skirt as if brushing him off with it.
"But not tonight. I'm exhausted," she said, clipped and final. "You'll hear my conditions in the morning."
Kaelith's chest rose and fell, fists curling at his sides but he didn't say anything and just looked at her, trying to figure her out. Trying to figure why was she stuborn.
Isaldora narrowed her eyes at him. His silence was bothering her, she was expecting he would react in anyway but he just sttod there staring at her and somehow she felt uneasy by the weight of it. She watched his eyes carefully but couldn't stand to looki in them, so she moved to his face reading him and trying to figure him out. But she couldn't pull anything from his expression as well, she pushed deeper—slipping quietly into his thoughts. She hated using her this gift, but right now? She was too damn curious but instantly regretted it.
His thoughts were a whirlwind. Rage tangled with fear. Frustration knotted with something deeper, something that nearly stole her breath—an ache, a desperation that clawed at her chest as though it were her own. He was hurting. Her words hurted him deeply and she felt guilty for it.
She didn't know, when she had closed the distance between them, that she herself had created, as her hand was resting on his cheek, as he closed his eyes. And they snap open the moment she jerks back her hand like she'd touched fire.
For a flicker of a moment, her poise faltered. She'd been expecting simple anger, maybe wounded pride. But this? This was squeezing her own heart. I need to get away from him. Without saying a word, she turned and left.
Isaldora slammed the door shut behind her and pressed her back against it. Her heart was hammering in her chest, no matter how much she tried to calm it.
She touched her lips, still feeling the warmth of his lips. He was her first kiss. Her throat tightened, and she hated herself for the strange sting pressing behind her eyes.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to picture the faces of her family, the fire, the ruins—her vow. That was her truth. That was her purpose.
Why does his hurt feel like mine?
——
Edina stood by the window, the silver light of the moon spilling over her shoulders. Her face was solemn, her eyes distant, as if she were staring into something far beyond the quiet night.
"Izzy has returned to the Duskhowl pack," Hyden's voice cut through the silence. There was a hardness to it, clipped and tense. "She's decided to stay there."
Edina's expression didn't change at first. Only after a long moment did she turn, her gaze steady on him. "Then we must be prepared," she said simply. "Isaldora will be needing us more than ever."
Hyden's brow furrowed. "Prepared for what?" he asked, his voice sharp with impatience. "You speak in riddles, Edina. What aren't you telling me?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but there was a faint softness in her eyes, almost pity. "Not everything is meant to be spoken before its time," she answered quietly.
Hyden took a step toward her, frustration brimming. "She's already walking a dangerous path. If you know something—if there's more at stake than she realizes—then damn it, she deserves to hear it. So do I."
Edina turned back to the window, her eyes once again on the moon. "She has to make her own choices, Hyden. Walk her own path. Her choices will define her destiny. We can only support her, not intervene."