Damon forced one foot in front of the other even though each step away from the site of the new bookstore required more willpower than the last. The path that led from the main area of the territory toward his secluded beach house stretched before him like an impossible marathon.
Just keep walking,he commanded himself.Get home. Get control. Get your head straight.
But twenty yards down the path, something invisible and irresistible yanked at his chest like a tether. His steps faltered, then stopped entirely. Every instinct screamed at him to turn around, to go back to where she was, to claim what his dragon insisted belonged to him.
Mine.
The word echoed through his mind, primal and absolute.
“No,” he growled aloud, forcing himself to resume walking.
Another fifty yards. Another invisible tether pulling taut in his chest. This time when he stopped, he actually turned halfway around before catching himself.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He’d known intellectually that meeting his fated mate would trigger the mate bond, but he hadn’t been prepared for this—thisoverwhelming compulsion that felt like fighting gravity itself. His dragon prowled restlessly, demanding he return to Isla, demanding he protect her, claim her, and mark her as his.
She’s probably confused by my behavior,his traitorous mind supplied.Probably wondering what she did wrong.
“She did nothing wrong,” he muttered, forcing himself forward again. “That’s the problem.”
The third time he found himself turning back toward the bookstore, Damon stopped in the middle of the path and ran both hands through his hair, pulling hard enough that the pain helped center him.
“Get it together, Veyr.” His voice carried the authority he used with his clan, but his dragon remained unimpressed by the show of dominance. “You’ve survived a century of isolation. You can survive one human woman.”
But she’s not just any human woman,his dragon whispered with smug satisfaction.She’s ours.
The word “ours” sent heat racing through him, and Damon found his hands clenching into fists. For one terrifying moment back at the bookstore, when he’d touched Isla’s soft skin and looked into those expressive hazel eyes, every civilized thought had fled his mind. His dragon had roared with a possessiveness so fierce it had taken every ounce of his considerable self-control not to sweep her into his arms right there in front of everyone.
The urge to carry her away from prying eyes and mark her as his had been so powerful it had shaken him to his core. That level of raw, primal need was exactly what made love so dangerous. Exactly why he’d sworn it off.
If I’d stayed another minute,he realized with uncomfortable clarity,I might have actually done it.
The thought propelled him forward with renewed determination. By the time his beach house finally came into view—a sprawling structure of glass and stone—sweat beadedhis brow from more than just the tropical heat. But the moment he crossed his threshold, the restlessness hit him so profoundly that his knees almost buckled.
This was his sanctuary, the place where he’d found peace for the past century. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered unobstructed views of the endless Pacific, while the open floor plan and minimalist décor created the serene, controlled environment he craved. Everything here existed exactly as he wanted it—predictable, orderly, and safe.
So why did it suddenly feel like a cage?
Damon prowled from room to room, his dragon’s agitation making it impossible to settle anywhere. He tried sitting on the leather couch that faced the ocean, but within seconds his leg was bouncing with nervous energy. He moved to the kitchen, gripping the marble countertop until his knuckles went white, but the restlessness only intensified.
This is different,he realized with growing unease.This isn’t like after the raid.
After his uncle’s betrayal, after watching his parents die and feeling the weight of his failures crush down on him, he’d experienced a different kind of restlessness—the hypervigilant anxiety of someone who could never again afford to let his guard down. That had been dark, exhausting, but familiar in its way.
This was something else entirely. This restlessness felt dangerously like hope.
“No,” he said aloud, his voice echoing in the empty space. “Absolutely not.”
But even as he denied it, images of Isla flooded his mind with perfect, torturous clarity. The way her teal camisole had hugged her curves just right. How her long auburn hair had caught the afternoon breeze like liquid fire. The flowing white skirt that had made her look like something from a dream as she’d moved toward him with that bright, hopeful smile.
She looked at me like I was her answer to everything,he thought, his chest tightening with an emotion he refused to name.Like I was some kind of hero instead of a dangerous man.
But it was more than just her appearance that had unraveled him. It was the warmth that seemed to radiate from her very soul, the emotional openness written across her expressive features, the way she’d stepped toward him without fear despite his intimidating presence. In that brief moment before he’d fled, he’d glimpsed something that felt like sunshine breaking through a century of storm clouds.
And her touch...
Damon’s dragon stirred with renewed interest, and he felt his body temperature spike as he remembered the electric shock of skin against skin. The mate bond had roared to life between them, demanding and undeniable.
