Chapter 10 Isla
TEN
ISLA
Thirty minutes later, Isla found herself walking along a moonlit path beside Kaelith, her nerves wound so tight she felt like she might vibrate out of her skin. The revelation about dragon shifters was still settling in her mind, mixing with anticipation and anxiety about seeing Damon again.
“You’re wound tighter than a spring,” Kaelith observed with an easy grin. “Relax. It’s just dinner, not a trial by fire.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not about to have dinner with someone who’s apparently your fated mate and also not too pleased about it.”
Kaelith’s laugh was warm and infectious. “Fair point. But I promise you, this place and Damon aren’t as scary as they seem. Sure, dragons are massive and powerful, but everyone here is friendly, loyal, and protective of each other. It’s really a tight-knit community.”
“But I’m human,” Isla pointed out, voicing the insecurity that had been gnawing at her.
“So? We’re not the type to look down on humans or treat them like they’re weak.
Anyone who can prove their worth and character is welcome here, dragon or not.
” Kaelith’s expression grew more serious.
“Trust me, if Damon’s dragon has claimed you as his mate, which I’m sure it has, then you belong here more than most.”
The reassurance should have helped, but it only added to the pressure building in Isla’s chest. “Then why is Damon so resistant?”
Kaelith’s steps slowed and his easy demeanor faltered. “Damon’s been through a lot. His parents died in a clan raid, and it... changed him.”
Something in Isla’s chest loosened with recognition and sympathy. “I can relate to that. My parents died too, and grief is a tricky thing to navigate.”
Kaelith stopped walking entirely, turning to study her with new interest. “Really? You might be the first person who could actually understand what he’s been carrying around.”
“I don’t know about that, but I can definitely offer a listening ear, if he ever chooses to open up.” Isla wrapped her arms around herself as the evening breeze carried the scent of salt. “Though from what I’ve seen so far, opening up doesn’t seem to be his strong suit.”
“That’s an understatement. Damon’s been closed off for a very long time.
He tends to push everyone away to protect himself from getting hurt again.
” Kaelith’s expression grew thoughtful. “But maybe that’s exactly why fate brought you here.
Maybe you’re the one who can finally crack through that armor. ”
Maybe.
But as they approached the warm glow of lights emanating from Damon’s beach house, Isla couldn’t shake that feeling that she was walking toward either her greatest love story or her most spectacular heartbreak.
And given her track record, she wasn’t entirely sure which one was more likely.
Kaelith slowed his pace, turning to face Isla with an encouraging grin. “Good luck at dinner with Damon,” he said, his voice holding the easy warmth that seemed to be his default setting. “Just be yourself and try not to take anything he says or does personally. He’s... complicated.”
“I’ll try, but honestly? The unease I’m feeling right now is sky high.” She glanced toward the beach house. “I don’t know how I’m going to handle this when he’s already run away from me once today. I feel like this is a disaster waiting to happen.”
Kaelith’s expression softened with understanding. “Trust me, it won’t be as bad as you think. Damon’s bark is worse than his bite—well, unless you’re actually threatening his territory, but that’s beside the point.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “You’ve got this.”
With that final encouragement, he turned and disappeared back down the moonlit path, leaving Isla alone with her racing heart and the daunting prospect of facing the man who’d looked at her like she was both salvation and destruction.
She climbed the weathered wooden steps to his front porch, each creak of the boards beneath her feet sounding unnaturally loud in the evening quiet. The scent of ocean spray mixed with something more primal—a hint of spice that seemed to cling to the air around Damon’s sanctuary.
Here goes nothing.
She raised her hand and knocked on the door, taking a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to calm the butterflies in her stomach.
Then the door opened, and every coherent thought fled her mind.
Damon stood in the doorway wearing a simple black t-shirt that molded to his broad shoulders and chest, paired with khaki shorts that revealed powerful legs. The casual clothing should have made him seem more approachable. Instead, it only emphasized the raw masculinity that radiated from him.
Dear God, how is breathing supposed to work again?
The magnetic pull she’d felt earlier crashed over her with renewed intensity, stealing what little composure she’d managed to gather during the walk. Her heart hammered as she found herself caught in the gravitational field of this man who was her destined mate.
He stared at her for a long moment, those deep green eyes dilating with something that looked unmistakably like desire again. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with an electricity that made her skin tingle and her pulse race.
Maybe this dinner won’t be so bad, she thought, though now instead of worrying about his mood, she had to worry about whether they could control themselves physically.
The mate bond Evelina had described was clearly more than just a romantic concept—it was a living, breathing force that seemed determined to pull them together despite Damon’s obvious resistance earlier.
The spell finally broke when she managed to find her voice.
“Good evening.”
His jaw tightened before he stepped back from the doorway. “Come in. Dinner is waiting for us on the back deck.”
She crossed the threshold into his domain, immediately struck by the space’s stark minimalism. Clean lines, functional furniture, neutral colors—everything perfectly organized and deliberately impersonal. Not a single photograph or personal memento in sight.
This man really does live on control, doesn’t he?
The house felt like a carefully constructed fortress against emotional chaos, which only made her presence here feel more significant. If Damon controlled every aspect of his environment this meticulously, then allowing her into his space—even reluctantly—meant something.
He walked ahead of her through the house, his movements fluid and predatory despite their casual pace. When he reached the back patio door and opened it, Isla gasped softly at the scene that greeted her.
A circular table adorned with white linen dominated the deck, surrounded by the soft glow of pillar candles.
Two chairs sat positioned across from each other, and the meal spread between them looked like something from a gourmet restaurant—perfectly plated dishes that must have taken hours to prepare.
The attention to detail was breathtaking. Every element had been carefully considered, from the wine glasses that caught the candlelight to the small arrangement of tropical flowers that served as a centerpiece.
Hope bloomed in her chest like a flower opening to sunlight.
He cares. He might not want to admit it, but he cares enough to make this perfect.
Damon moved to pull out her chair with old-fashioned courtesy, the gesture so at odds with his earlier dismissal that it left her momentarily speechless. When she was seated, he settled across from her, his massive frame somehow making the elegant table seem intimate rather than formal.
“This is absolutely beautiful,” she said, determined to keep things light and warm despite the tension radiating from him. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“It wasn’t trouble.” His response was polite but distant.
She tried a different approach, flashing him her brightest smile. “So, tell me about Everflame Isle. It’s the most gorgeous place I’ve ever seen. Your aunt mentioned that your family established the territory here centuries ago?”
“That’s correct.” He reached for his wine glass, his movements controlled and precise. “My grandfather founded this territory as a safe haven.”
His formal tone made her feel like she was conducting an interview rather than having dinner with her supposed fated mate. She pressed on, refusing to let his emotional walls discourage her.
“It must be incredible, having that kind of family legacy. And the responsibility of protecting it all—that’s quite a burden to carry.”
Something flickered in his eyes at the word ‘burden,’ but it was gone so quickly she might have imagined it.
“Are you settling in well with Evelina?” he asked, clearly deflecting from personal topics.
“Yes, she’s been the most gracious hostess. This whole place is so magical that I could get swept away and stay here forever.”
He leaned forward slightly, his green eyes suddenly sharp and focused. For a heartbeat, she caught a glimpse of something that looked almost like hope.
“This place is something we’re all proud of,” he said, his voice carrying a new intensity. “We work hard to protect it.”
The passion in his voice when he spoke about his territory gave her encouragement that somewhere beneath all that control was a man capable of deep feeling. She just had to find a way to reach him.
“So, why did you run off earlier?” she asked, her voice gentle but direct. “I know I’m your fated mate. Gerri and Evelina told me.”
His entire body went rigid, the wine glass freezing halfway to his lips. “They did?”
“Yes.” She leaned forward, her hazel eyes searching his face for some sign of the connection she’d felt earlier. “I was really hoping we would connect better, but you seem so distant and closed off. And I don’t understand why, if we’re destined to be together.”
The challenge hung in the air between them, and she watched as his expression shifted from surprise to something that looked almost like panic.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said, his voice taking on a defensive edge. “Things have been challenging for a long time, and this whole situation just got sprung on me. I didn’t ask for it and I’m not ready for it.”
Each word felt like a small knife to her heart, but she tried to keep her expression neutral.
Don’t take it personally, she reminded herself, echoing Kaelith’s advice. He’s probably just scared.
“So what, you don’t want me here then?” she asked, unable to keep a note of hurt from creeping into her voice. “Am I a problem for you?”
For a moment, his face went completely blank—like a deer caught in headlights. Then his expression hardened into something cold and impenetrable.
“Yes, you are a problem for me, and it’s probably best you just leave for now.” The words came out sharp and final. “I’m sorry my aunt had you come here, and I was trying to be respectful, but this isn’t going to work.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut, stealing her breath and making her chest tight with sudden, overwhelming pain. Her destined mate—the man the universe had supposedly chosen for her—was telling her she was a problem and asking her to leave.
This isn’t what’s supposed to happen, her mind screamed. Why would the universe be so cruel?
She pushed back from the table, her chair scraping against the deck boards as she stood on unsteady legs. Her dinner sat barely touched, the beautiful meal now seeming to mock her with its perfection.
“Fine,” she managed, her voice thick with hurt and anger. “I won’t stay where I’m not wanted.”
Without another word, she turned and rushed down the back wooden steps of the deck, her vision blurring with tears she refused to let fall.
The sound of her footsteps on the beach sand seemed unnaturally loud as she broke into a run, hoping the moonlight would be enough to guide her back to Evelina’s estate.
As she ran, one thought echoed through her mind with devastating clarity. She was either going to stay and figure this impossible situation out or give up on love for good.