Keep talking. Keep pushing.
But before she could force out another word, Kaelith turned and left, his footsteps fading into the mechanical hum of the boat’s engines.
Alone in the narrow cabin, Isla focused on the rhythm of her breathing, the only thing that still seemed to work properly. Then, cutting through the pharmaceutical fog, came a voice she knew and loved beyond measure.
Isla. Tell me you’re okay. Tell me where you are.
Her eyes widened.Damon?
She’d had no idea they could communicate this way—another crucial detail he’d failed to mention about the whole dragon shifter experience.
I’m here,she tried to push back, concentrating with everything she had.I’m alive. On a boat. Moving. I think... Crimson Ridge.
For a moment, nothing. Then warmth flooded the connection, not just his voice but his presence, his strength flowing into her like liquid sunlight.
I’m coming for you. Hold on.
The mate bond suddenly flared. Not fully restored, but flickering like a candle. And with it came something else—the drug’s grip on her body began to loosen, as if Damon’s will was somehow burning it out of her system.
Whatever you’re doing,she thought fiercely,keep doing it.
Sensation crept back into her fingertips first, then her toes. She could flex her hands now, curl her fingers into fists. The paralysis was retreating, inch by inch, as if Damon’s love was literally overriding the chemical restraints.
Heavy footsteps in the corridor made her freeze. She forced her body to go limp again just as Veyrik filled the doorway, his imposing frame blocking out the light.
“Just checking in, dear. Soon we’ll be back at my compound on Crimson Ridge,” he said, his ice-blue eyes raking over her prone form with interest. “Then I’ll decide what to do with you.”
Isla kept her breathing shallow and even, playing the part of the helpless captive while her skin crawled under his scrutiny.
“I thought about killing you,” he continued conversationally, as if discussing the weather. “But if Damon thinks you’re so special...” His lips curved in a smile that made her stomach turn. “Maybe I can find you useful too. I have several mates already. You could join my collection.”
Disgusting bastard.The words burned in her throat, but she forced herself to remain motionless as he stepped closer.
“Such a pretty little human,” he murmured, his finger trailing along her lips with possessive familiarity. “I wonder what makes you worth starting a war over.”
Every instinct screamed at her to bite down, to spit in his face, to show him exactly what this “pretty little human” was capable of. Instead, she lay still as stone, letting him believe she was completely at his mercy.
Finally, he stepped back.
“Just lay there and relax,” he said with mock kindness. “Soon you’ll be home. Your new home.”
The moment his footsteps faded, Isla tested her returning mobility. She could sit up now, though her movements were still sluggish. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else, but they responded when she commanded them.
Escape.The thought was immediate and desperate. But how? Jump overboard and swim across miles of open ocean? Even if the drug wore off completely, she wasn’t strong enough to survive that kind of distance. She’d drown long before reaching shore.
The door opened again, and Kaelith’s familiar silhouette appeared. His eyes widened when he saw her sitting upright.
“I see the drug is wearing off,” he said, though his voice lacked its earlier coldness.
“Please don’t give me more,” she said quickly. “Please just let me go.”
Kaelith stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. In the small space, she could see the conflict written across his features more clearly.
“Why are you doing this?” she pressed, sensing an opening. “Wasn’t Damon your best friend? Weren’t you like brothers? Haven’t you been through everything together?”
Something crumpled in his expression, and for a moment he looked far younger than his apparent years.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “Damon is like a brother. That’s what hurt the most.”
