Chapter 17 Isla
SEVENTEEN
ISLA
The chair beside Evelina’s bed had become Isla’s anchor in a world that felt increasingly dangerous.
She watched the steady rise and fall of the older woman’s chest, each breath a reassurance that they’d both survived what should have been a simple shopping trip.
The late afternoon light filtering through the bedroom’s tall windows cast everything in golden hues, but Isla’s mind kept replaying darker moments—the terrifying sound of dragon roars echoing across Crimson Ridge, the metallic scent of blood, and the way her heart had nearly stopped when Sylara’s massive dragon form had turned those predatory eyes toward her.
I really thought I was going to die today.
The memory sent a shiver down her spine despite the room’s warmth.
She’d faced heartbreak, loss, even the slow devastation of watching her parents fade away—but nothing had prepared her for the primal terror of being prey to something so much larger and more powerful than herself.
Evelina’s courage in that moment had been staggering, the elegant woman transforming into a fierce blue dragon without hesitation to protect someone she’d known for less than forty-eight hours.
But it was the memory of salvation that made Isla’s pulse quicken even now.
That massive obsidian dragon form cutting through the sky like vengeance itself, green eyes blazing with protective fury as Damon had descended upon their attackers.
The raw power he’d wielded, the controlled violence that had sent two enemy dragons fleeing—it should have terrified her.
Instead, she’d felt something closer to awe.
He came for us. He came for me.
The flight back to Everflame Isle replayed in vivid detail: the careful way Damon had moved, the steady rhythm of his wings, and the heat radiating from his scales. Even in dragon form, his protective instincts had been evident in every movement and every adjustment to ensure their safety.
Then the transformation back to his human form—that moment when the fearsome dragon had dissolved into the man who’d swept Evelina into his arms with such tenderness during their kiss.
Isla had seen past the controlled exterior then, glimpsed the depth of love and responsibility that drove him.
This wasn’t the emotionally distant man who’d told her she was a problem in his life.
This was a natural leader responding to crisis with the kind of decisive authority that made others instinctively follow.
“I will always protect you,” he’d said, and those words had resonated through her entire being with the weight of absolute truth.
Her initial frustration at his decision that he’d be staying at the estate had been reflexive—the knee-jerk response of someone who’d demanded space only hours earlier.
But watching him coordinate Evelina’s care, seeing the way he’d taken charge without hesitation, had shifted something fundamental in her understanding.
This wasn’t about forcing proximity or ignoring her boundaries.
This was about a man finally stepping up to be the leader his people needed.
The soft rustle of sheets drew Isla from her thoughts as Evelina’s green eyes fluttered open, immediately alert despite her ordeal. Dragon healing was apparently as impressive as dragon strength.
“How are you feeling?” Isla leaned forward, relief flooding through her.
“Like I’ve been trampled by a herd of wild horses, but better than expected.” Evelina’s voice carried its usual warmth despite the slight rasp. “Dragon healing has its advantages—I can already feel my body mending itself.”
“Thank goodness.” Isla’s smile felt wobbly with emotion. “I was so worried about you. When I saw all that blood...”
“This isn’t my first brush with violence, dear.” Evelina shifted carefully, testing her range of motion. “Though I must admit, it’s been decades since I’ve had to defend anyone in dragon form. I was just grateful Damon arrived when he did—just like he did a century ago during the raid.”
Isla’s curiosity sharpened. “A century ago?”
“When his parents and several clan members were killed. Damon saved my life that night too, along with many others.” Evelina’s expression grew distant with memory. “He was so young then, barely past his first century...”
“Wait.” Isla blinked, the casual timeline making her head spin. “How old is Damon exactly?”
“Oh, he’s about two hundred years old now. Dragons live much longer than humans—we age differently too. What appears to be mid-thirties in human years could be several centuries for us.”
Two hundred years old.
The number hit Isla like a physical blow. All this time she’d been thinking of Damon as a man carrying recent trauma, but he’d been living with that guilt and pain for longer than she’d been alive. A century of self-imposed isolation, of believing himself responsible for deaths.
“So Damon has carried that burden—the guilt of not protecting everyone—for an entire century?”
“Yes.” Evelina’s voice grew heavy with sorrow. “He blames himself for trusting the wrong person, for allowing his uncle access to our stronghold. He’s never forgiven himself for not seeing the betrayal coming, and he’s convinced that getting close to anyone puts them at risk.”
The pieces clicked into place with devastating clarity.
Damon’s words from the previous night—calling her a problem, telling her to leave—suddenly made heartbreaking sense.
It hadn’t been rejection of her personally; it had been the desperate attempt of a man terrified of caring about someone he might not be able to protect.
“That’s why he said I was a problem,” Isla murmured, her heart aching for the wounded man behind all that controlled strength.
“Damon hasn’t handled this well, I’ll give you that.
” Evelina’s tone grew gently reproachful.
“But when he told you that you were a problem in his life, he wasn’t saying you were the issue.
He was saying that caring about you terrifies him because it means confronting a century of pain and fear—fear that he’ll fail again, that his feelings for you will make him vulnerable in ways that could cost lives. ”
Oh, Damon.
Understanding flooded through Isla, washing away the hurt she’d been nursing. “He’s so scared.”
“Yes,” Evelina confirmed. “But look at what he did today. He protected you without hesitation, took charge of a crisis, and made the decision to stay here and actively lead instead of hiding away at his beach house. That’s not the behavior of a man running anymore—that’s a man finally ready to face his fears. ”
The truth of it settled over Isla like a warm blanket.
“Maybe...” Evelina’s voice took on a casual tone that immediately put Isla on alert. “Maybe you could try having dinner with him again. Here at the estate this time, where you’d be comfortable and could leave whenever you wanted.”
“I told him I needed space,” Isla protested, though the words lacked conviction. “I’m still hurt by what he said last night. Even if now I have the proper context.”
“Space is important,” Evelina agreed diplomatically. “But so is giving someone a chance to prove they’re capable of change.”
Isla found herself wavering. The man who’d saved them today, who’d taken charge with such natural authority and gentle care—that was the real Damon beneath all the protective barriers. And if he was truly trying to change, to step up not just for her but for his entire clan...
“He is making an effort,” Isla admitted slowly.
“Exactly.” Evelina’s smile was knowing. “And I suspect that having his fated mate here is exactly the push he needed to finally stop running from himself.”
The word ‘fated’ still sent little thrills through Isla’s system. Destiny was one thing in romance novels, quite another when you were living it with a two-hundred-year-old dragon who’d just saved your life.
“Fine,” Isla said, surprising herself with the decisiveness in her voice. “I’ll have dinner with him. But on my terms.”
“Wonderful.” Evelina’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “I’ll have the kitchen prepare something special. All you need to do is extend the invitation.”
Isla nodded, then leaned over to squeeze Evelina’s hand gently. “Rest now. You’ve done enough heroics for one day.”
As Isla left the room, her mind was already racing ahead to the evening’s possibilities. Somewhere in this sprawling estate, Damon was probably unpacking his things and preparing for an extended stay that would force them into close proximity whether they were ready or not.
Time to find out if we can handle being in the same house.
The coral sundress had been the third outfit Isla tried on, and she still wasn’t entirely sure why she’d spent nearly an hour deliberating over what to wear to dinner.
He’s trying, she reminded herself as she made her way through the estate’s corridors. And after what Evelina told me about the raid, about him carrying that guilt for a century...