Chapter 36 Isla #2
The bright sun hit her face as they emerged onto the deck, and she had to squint against the glare reflecting off the ocean’s surface. The yacht bobbed gently in the swells, but the peaceful setting did nothing to calm the terror coursing through her veins.
Veyrik stood at the bow like a conquering general. His jet-black hair caught the sunlight, and that permanent smirk twisted his lips as he watched the horizon with predatory satisfaction. He hadn’t shifted into his dragon form yet, which struck her as odd.
What game was he playing?
Then she heard it—a sound that made her soul sing even as it terrified her.
The thunderous beat of massive wings cutting through the air, growing closer with each passing second.
Damon’s obsidian dragon form appeared on the horizon, his wingspan casting a shadow across the water as he approached with lethal intent.
Even from this distance, she could see the molten green fire burning in his eyes, a fury so intense it seemed to heat the very air around them.
“Perfect timing,” Veyrik said without turning around. “Our guest of honor has arrived.”
But Kaelith’s grip on her arm loosened, and when she looked up at him, she saw something that made her breath hitch. His face had gone pale, his bright blue eyes wide with what looked like genuine terror—not of Damon, but of what he’d set in motion.
“Veyrik,” Kaelith’s voice cracked slightly. “I’m leaving. With Isla. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
The rival Alpha turned slowly, his ice-blue eyes glittering with cold amusement.
“Is that so?”
“I was foolish for coming to you in the first place,” Kaelith continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t think it would get this far. I never wanted—”
“Didn’t you want to get rid of Damon?” Veyrik interrupted, his tone deceptively mild. “Didn’t you want a better Alpha to follow? You can’t simply go back on that now.”
“I can’t do this.” Kaelith’s voice broke completely as Damon’s dragon form grew larger in the sky, close enough now that Isla could see the deadly precision of his flight pattern. “He’s like a brother to me. I can’t—”
“Sorry, Kaelith.” Veyrik’s hand moved faster than a striking snake, producing a wicked-looking blade from his jacket. “You made your choice.”
The steel sliced across Kaelith’s throat in one fluid motion, so quick and efficient that for a heartbeat, Isla didn’t understand what had happened. Then crimson bloomed across his neck like a grotesque flower, and his eyes went wide with shock and betrayal.
“Kaelith, no!” Isla’s scream tore from her throat as his body crumpled to the deck, his lifeforce draining away.
“You bastard!” She whirled on Veyrik, fury overriding her fear. “Why did you do that?”
“No one gets to undo their allegiance to me once given,” Veyrik said with chilling calm. “If they try, they suffer the consequences.” He pointed the bloodied blade toward Kaelith’s lifeless form. “That was the consequence.”
Before she could process the full horror of what had just happened, Veyrik’s body began to ripple and expand.
Bones cracked and reformed, muscle and sinew stretching as his human form gave way to something far more terrifying.
Deep green scales erupted across his skin, and massive wings unfurled from his shoulders as he shifted into his dragon form.
Damon’s roar shook the very foundations of the yacht as he descended, his obsidian scales gleaming like polished volcanic glass in the sunlight. With him this close, the mate bond flared back to life with startling intensity, flooding her with his complex emotions.
Rage. Pure, incandescent fury at Veyrik for killing Kaelith despite his friend’s betrayal.
Guilt. Raw and bleeding, for allowing the situation to escalate to this point.
And underneath it all, a fierce protectiveness so powerful it took her breath away—his desperate need to save her, to make Veyrik pay for every moment of terror he’d put her through.
The two dragons collided mid-air with a sound like thunder, their massive forms grappling as they fought for dominance.
Damon fought like an Alpha possessed, his movements fluid and deadly as he matched Veyrik blow for blow.
White-hot flames erupted from his mouth, met by Veyrik’s colder fire that crackled and shimmered in the afternoon light.
For several minutes, they seemed evenly matched—Damon’s raw power against Veyrik’s cunning and experience. But then Veyrik’s claws found their mark, raking across the still-healing wound on Damon’s ribs from the ambush.
Damon’s roar of pain cut through her, and she watched in horror as he faltered, his massive form wavering in the air.
No.
Her eyes frantically scanned the deck, searching for anything that could help. That’s when she spotted it—a bright orange flare gun mounted in an emergency kit near the yacht’s controls.
It won’t do much damage to a dragon, she thought, grabbing the device with trembling hands. But it might stun him long enough for Damon to regroup.
Veyrik’s dragon form reared back, preparing to deliver what could be the killing blow, his massive jaws opening to release another torrent of flame. Isla raised the flare gun, her hands surprisingly steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her system.
One shot. Make it count.
She squeezed the trigger just as Veyrik’s mouth gaped wide, and the bright red flare shot straight down his throat like a comet finding its mark.
The effect was immediate and spectacular. Veyrik’s roar became a strangled shriek as the burning flare lodged in his gullet, his massive form convulsing as he fought against the foreign object searing his insides.
It was exactly the opening Damon needed. His dragon surged forward with renewed fury, his powerful jaws closing around Veyrik’s exposed throat with bone-crushing force.
Isla watched, transfixed and horrified, as Damon’s obsidian form tightened his grip, his molten green eyes blazing with the fire of an Alpha who would not be denied his vengeance. Veyrik’s struggles grew weaker, his life force ebbing away until his massive dragon form went still.
When it was over, Veyrik’s body shifted back to his human form, the finality of death breaking the magical transformation. His lifeless eyes stared up at the cloudless sky, no longer holding their cold malice, and then his body fell into the ocean.
Damon’s dragon form hovered above the yacht for a moment, his chest heaving with exertion and emotion. Then he too shifted back to his human form, landing on the deck with grace despite his injuries.
His green eyes found hers immediately, and the raw relief in them nearly brought her to her knees.
He’s alive. We’re both alive.
The thought broke through her shock, and she didn’t hesitate. Her feet carried her across the deck before conscious thought could catch up, her arms wrapping around his warm, solid chest as if she could anchor him to this world through sheer will.
“Isla.” Her name rumbled from deep in his chest, his strong arms encircling her with desperate intensity. The familiar scent of him filled her lungs, grounding her in the reality that they had survived this nightmare.
“Are you hurt?” His hands moved over her, checking for injuries even as his own blood seeped between her fingers where she pressed against his side. “Did they—”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, pulling back just enough to meet those blazing green eyes. “But you’re bleeding again. And we need to get back to the island. Help your people.”
“My people have it under control.” His voice carried absolute conviction, the tone of an Alpha who trusted his clan completely. “They can defend our territory without me.”
When had that changed?
Now he spoke with the confidence of a leader who knew his people’s strength.
“Sit down then,” she commanded. “I need to find a first aid kit.”
For a moment, she thought he might argue—that familiar stubborn set to his jaw that suggested he’d rather power through the pain than show weakness. But then his expression softened, and he allowed her to guide him to one of the deck chairs.
The yacht’s medical supplies were surprisingly comprehensive, and Isla worked with steady hands to clean and bandage the wound. It wasn’t as deep as she’d initially feared, though it would need proper attention from the clan’s healers once they returned home.
Home. The word settled in her mind with surprising ease.
“There,” she said, securing the last of the bandages. “That should hold until we can get you proper treatment.”
Damon’s gaze had drifted to where Kaelith’s body lay motionless on the deck, his bright blue eyes staring sightlessly at the cloudless sky. The anguish that flickered across Damon’s features made her heart clench.
“He was trying to save me at the end,” Isla said softly, following his line of sight. “He wanted to stop this. Veyrik killed him because he tried to back out.”
Damon’s jaw tightened, grief and regret warring in his expression. “I wish it hadn’t come to this. But knowing he tried to redeem himself in the end... it gives me some peace.”
The raw honesty in his voice broke something open in her chest. This was the man she’d fallen in love with—not the controlled Alpha who never showed weakness, but the one who could grieve for a friend even after that friend’s betrayal.
His hands came up to frame her face, his thumbs stroking across her cheekbones with reverent gentleness.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said, his voice roughened with emotion. “When the bond went silent, I—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she interrupted, covering his hands with hers. “You’re stuck with me.”
Their kiss that followed was desperate and tender. She could taste his relief, his gratitude, and underneath it all, the unshakeable certainty that whatever dangers this world might hold, they would face them together.