My purr increases in volume, drowning the sound of the surfboard bobbing against the waves. Her little sigh goes straight to my breeding arm, and this time, I do nothing to settleit. My mate is in my arms, fed and well, placing her full trust in me to keep her safe. I want to absorb every moment of it.
“Do you have any stories about this place?” Cindi timidly asks.
I wish I could take back my weeks of silence. Cindi should never be timid, and I made her that way. It’s getting hard to remember why I’m so insistent on keeping up with it.
Still, the only answer I can give won’t be what she wants to hear. “None you will enjoy.”
She tenses, and I place my hand over her back to stop her from running. “Ordus…” She peers up at me through her lashes, brows pinched in worry.
I quickly scan our surroundings for any new scents. Other than Vasz, there’s not another living soul around us.
“You said your people call this place the Malediction Island, the beach Mutant Shores.”
“Yes.” I nod.
“I think you should rename it. It’s your home. You should treat it that way.” Her frown deepens for reasons I can’t decipher.
She may not see it this way, but it’s Cindi’s home too. She’s made the island hers. Our den is made up entirely of her belongings. The land is covered in things she’s made or needs for survival.
At this point, the island is more Cindi’s than mine.
“You should have…positive thoughts about this place.” My mate says it like she’s uncertain that’s the correct word.
The only good thing to happen on that island is the woman in my arms. Nothing else compares. She’s the only light left.
I run a finger down her spine, and her scent sours, but only for a moment. “What would you suggest?” I ask.
“Not Vaszeline and sure as shit not petroleum jelly.” She chuckles, shifting back up to look at me.
I hope Vasz didn’t hear that. He already thinks it’shisisland. Cindi’s rejection would make him spend a whole day sulking.
“Your name, then? Cindi’s Island?”
She sighs, releasing my gaze. “My… That’s not my name.”
What?Have I been calling her the wrong name this entire time? I’m a bad mate. An awful one. Why didn’t she correct me?
“I changed my name to Cindi after I ran from my husband because as far as I’m concerned, Kristy is dead. So, I mean, yeah. I guess Cindi is my name.”
I’m both relieved and enraged. How could anyone want to harm her? Why would she have to kill a part of herself to survive?
I inhale deeply, pulling her scent into my lungs to calm the need to act upon the anger.
Swallowing, I force my voice to hide my emotions. “Humans have two names, do they not? Yannig said the female sometimes takes one of the male’s names when they marry.”
She nods, lips curled like she’s tasting something bitter. “Yes, I took my husband’s last name. Before then, I had my dad’s.” My mate softens at the mention of her father.
Cindi has spoken of him once during dinner. She pointed at one of the items I took from the mainland and told me how her father taught her about the automobiles. Based on the way she hung her head and the water gathering on her tear line, I assumed her father passed.
She offers me a sad smile. “He would’ve loved seeing this island. If he had his way, he’d live by the sea, spending every day fishing or surfing. In my first year of college, he and his buddies built a raft I helped design and were betting on how long it would last out on the water.”
“Did he win?”
She snorts. “Dad put money on it staying afloat for two hours. It lasted four minutes and twenty-three seconds.”
I smile up at her, and her own widens. I run my hand up the length of her back, reveling in the feel of her soft skin. “What was his name?”
“He went by his last name: Saelim.”
