Chapter Seven #2
The three-story private villa was located at the edge of a crescent-shaped beach.
Constructed out of pale stone, smooth wood, and walls of glass, it blended seamlessly into the tropical landscape surrounding it.
Palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, their fronds lightly brushing against the wide balconies that overlooked the crystal clear water.
Beyond the white sand beach, the lagoon shimmered in shifting shades of turquoise and sapphire, protected by a distant reef where waves broke in soft, foaming lines.
Behind the villa, dense greenery climbed the hills, bright with flowering vines, trees with glossy leaves, and bursts of color from exotic blooms. The salty air was filled with the fragrance of those tropical flowers and the faint sweetness of the fruit growing on the trees.
Near the center of the small island, water spilled down the rocks in a quiet waterfall, flowing into a stream of fresh water.
The gentle sound mingled with the steady hush of the ocean, making the entire villa designed like a serene temple.
The villa itself was open and airy. High ceilings with exposed beams stretched above polished stone floors, while gauzy white curtains drifted in the breeze from wide doors that stood open to the balconies and terraces.
Spells kept the elements at bay, allowing for the doors and windows to continuously remain open.
Comfortable seating areas were arranged on each floor to take advantage of the breathtaking views. Every room was decorated with simple elegance, highlighted with rich fabrics, handcrafted furniture, and other small touches of comfort.
For Viktor, the villa had always been more than a retreat.
It was a refuge, a place he had created for moments when the rest of the world became too loud or too dangerous.
No one came there unless he expressly allowed it, and no enemy had ever breached the island’s defenses.
Under ordinary circumstances, bringing a stranger there would have been unthinkable.
But the female standing before him wasn’t unknown to him, and the situation they had just escaped was anything but ordinary.
Naomi glanced around the large living room and nodded in approval.
Some people might have thought the combination of pale wood and stone and bold black accents in the room was boring, but she liked the simplicity.
The only splashes of color were the bold fabrics used for the cushions on the cream-colored sofa and chairs and the stunning artwork framed on the walls.
She was aware that Viktor was still holding onto her wrist, but didn’t bother pulling away from him. Actually, she liked the contact, and felt like it grounded her to reality in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. Glancing at her mate, she felt her stomach flutter with excitement.
The last time she had seen Viktor, he had been suspended over a pit of devil fire, bruised, bloodied, and far too close to death for her to truly notice anything beyond the horror of their situation.
She remembered the pain in his voice. The dullness of his glowing blue eyes.
The desperation in the way he had said her name.
Now, standing in the bright, airy living room of his private villa, she finally had the chance to really look at him.
Holy hellfire, Viktor Ze was devastatingly handsome.
His dark silver hair was cut short in a style that likely helped him blend in with humans, but there was nothing ordinary about him.
The color gleamed like moonlight over steel, stark and striking against the hard angles of his face.
He had sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, and a mouth that looked far too tempting.
But it was his eyes that hit her the hardest. Glowing blue and impossibly bright, they shone like twin stars, ancient and beautiful, and focused entirely on her.
He towered over her, all lethal grace and controlled power, making her feel delicate in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Maybe ever. She had spent too many lifetimes fighting, running, dying, and starting over to think of herself as fragile, but standing beside him made her acutely aware of how feminine she was.
The black armor he wore was the same tactical gear most guardians favored on missions, molded to protect his form without sacrificing movement.
It should have made him look cold and untouchable.
Instead, it only emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, the strength in his arms, and the lean, powerful build beneath.
Even with most of him covered, there was no hiding what he was.
Powerful.
Dangerous.
Darkly beautiful.
Hers.
The word echoed through her mind, making her nearly laugh in triumph.
He belonged to her. Of course, fate could give her a mate who looked like a warrior made out of shadows and starlight, and expect her to be normal about it.
He was almost too perfect in a way that felt unfair and dangerous to her sanity.
No wonder destiny had waited until the worst possible moment for them to meet.
She wanted to jump him. To claim a stolen moment with him before it was ripped away by some accident or mishap, but she knew there were things she needed to take care of before she let herself focus on him.
She glanced down at Cassian, who flopped down on his back on the floor and folded his arms behind his head, and found him eying her suspiciously.
She couldn’t really blame him for that.
“Don’t you think you should put that thing away?” Cassian asked.
She frowned as she tried to figure out what he was talking about.
Realizing she was still holding the sword, she held it up to admire it.
Once she’d woken up after her last death, she’d hauled ass to steal the sword from a particularly despicable, wealthy mage who lived in Mystic.
She had discovered he had a pretty interesting collection of rare artifacts when she’d had a run-in with him several cycles ago.