Chapter 11 Damon
ELEVEN
DAMON
Damon sat frozen in the flickering candlelight, his eyes fixed on the wooden steps where Isla had disappeared into the darkness.
The carefully arranged dinner table mocked him with its perfection—white linen pristine, wine glasses catching the flame’s dance, the elaborate meal he’d spent hours preparing now growing cold in the ocean breeze.
You absolute idiot.
The thought crashed through him with devastating clarity. He’d lashed out at his mate like a wounded animal, used his words as weapons to drive her away before she could get close enough to him. The hurt that had flashed in her hazel eyes when he’d called her a problem would haunt him for eternity.
Through the mate bond, he felt her distress like a physical weight crushing his chest. She was out there in the dark, alone and upset, probably lost on an island she didn’t know.
The protective instincts hardwired into his dragon DNA roared to life, overriding every defense mechanism he’d carefully constructed over the past century.
She’s in danger. Your mate is vulnerable and you did this.
The rational part of his mind tried to argue that Everflame Isle was perfectly safe, that nothing would harm her here. But the primal part of him—the part that had recognized her as his the moment their hands touched—wouldn’t listen to reason.
Damon launched himself from his chair with such force it toppled backward onto the deck. His powerful legs carried him down the wooden steps three at a time as he followed her vanilla scent that lingered in the salt air, tracking her through the moonlit landscape like the predator he was.
He soon found her running along the main path toward his aunt’s estate, her flowing white skirt catching on the tropical vegetation and her long auburn hair wild from her frantic escape. Even in the pale moonlight, he could see the way her shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.
The sight of his mate so clearly upset because of his own cruelty nearly brought him to his knees.
“Isla, stop.” His deep voice carried easily through the night air, roughened with emotion he couldn’t quite hide.
She didn’t slow down, her sandaled feet moving fast across the uneven ground. If anything, his voice seemed to spur her into a more desperate flight.
Of course she’s running from you. You just told her she was a problem.
Damon’s longer stride caught up to her easily, and when she still refused to acknowledge him, he reached out and gently caught her arm—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make her stop before she injured herself in the dark.
“Let go of me.” Isla yanked her arm away with surprising strength, whirling to face him with fire blazing in her eyes despite the tears tracking down her cheeks. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
The raw pain in her voice hit him like a knife to the heart, and his dragon writhed with the need to comfort her, to pull her close and promise he’d never hurt her again.
“Why are you following me anyway?” she continued, her voice breaking slightly. “You’re the one who told me to leave your house, remember?”
“I’m sorry.” The words came out rough, his usual control shattered by the sight of her distress. “I overreacted. I was… Would you come back to finish dinner?”
“No.” The word was sharp and final. “I just want to go back to Evelina’s.”
His dragon snarled at the rejection, wanting to argue, to demand she listen to his apology. But the human part of him—the part that recognized he’d already done enough damage for one day—forced him to respect her wishes.
“Then I’ll walk you back.”
“I don’t need—”
“I’m not leaving you alone in the dark.” His tone brooked no argument.
They walked the rest of the way in suffocating silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Every step felt like another knife twist in his chest as the mate bond amplified her hurt and rejection. By the time they reached Evelina’s estate, Damon felt like his heart had been ripped out.
“Good night,” he managed, his voice barely a whisper.
Before Isla could respond, the front door swung open and Evelina appeared, her sharp green eyes taking in the scene with maternal intuition that missed nothing.
“What did you do?” she demanded, her voice carrying the kind of disappointed authority that had the power to make him feel like a child despite his centuries.
Isla slipped past them both without a word, disappearing into the house.
“I messed up.” The admission tasted bitter in his mouth. “I told her she was a problem for me and that it wouldn’t work between us.”
Evelina’s eyes flashed with something dangerous. “You better fix this, Damon Veyr. That woman is the best thing that’s happened to you in a century, and if you’re too much of a coward to see it—”
“I know.” The words came out sharp. “I want to fix it. I need to.”
He ran his hand through his dark hair, the weight of his failure crushing down on him. After a century of keeping everyone at arm’s length to protect them from his failures, he wasn’t sure he even remembered how to be vulnerable.
But he had to try. For Isla. For his clan. For himself.
“Plan a clan gathering tomorrow,” he said, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. “Here at your estate. I’ll attend.”
Evelina’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “You want to socialize with the clan? Voluntarily?”
“I want to show Isla that I’m willing to try to change. That she matters enough to face my fears.”
A slow smile spread across his aunt’s face. “Now that’s progress.”
When Damon finally returned to his empty beach house, the romantic dinner he’d prepared so meticulously now seeming to mock his failure, one thought echoed through his mind with utter clarity.
He’d spent a century deliberately keeping everyone from getting too close to him, convinced his distance kept them safe. But all he’d really done was create more problems.
Before he knew it, dawn crept across Everflame Isle with merciless persistence, finding Damon sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes.
Sleep had been a cruel joke—every time his eyelids closed, Isla’s face materialized in vivid detail.
The tears tracking paths down her cheeks.
The devastation that had replaced the hope in her hazel eyes.
You selfish idiot.
The self-recrimination hit him like a freight train, making his chest tighten.
In his two centuries of existence, through battles and betrayals and the crushing weight of leadership, only two moments had ever made him question his very core.
The night his uncle’s treachery had cost him everything he’d held dear.
And last night, when he’d deliberately wounded the one person the universe had chosen for him.
His dragon paced restlessly beneath his skin, agitated and demanding. The beast had been prowling all night, furious at being denied proximity to their mate, confused by Damon’s rejection of what should have been instinctual acceptance.
She’s ours. Fix this now.
“I’m trying,” he muttered to the empty room.