A Warrior’s Fate (Wolves of Morai #1)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

W hen first confronted by something—or someone—she knew nothing about, Isla, historically, was a “claw first, ask questions later” kind of she-wolf—an automatic fight in the fight-or-flight dichotomy. The reaction had both saved her life and gotten her in deep trouble in the past. The latter more so than the former.

That called for training and with it, she eventually learned to hold off on the snap actions and instead use her senses first to efficiently run down the mental checklist, evaluate the threat, then strike if needed.

She tried to call upon the teachings now, but the only sense that was working was her sight.

And then…there was also something deeper.

Isla felt a tug at what seemed like the core of her being in a way she’d only experienced once—just a few moments ago at the bar. Was this it? The day she’d once dreamed of and now dreaded?

No. This wasn’t quite how that mystical, magical-fated attraction felt, at least, in the way she imagined it would from the descriptions she’d heard.

“It’s like a light just shines, and the heavens open and…”

“It’s a…ping!”

“Suddenly, the world just made sense.”

“I saw her, and I just knew.”

No. This definitely wasn’t any of that. That sounded romantic, wistful, and dreamy, even. This was just…carnal.

It consumed her like wildfire, spreading through her branches of veins and torching the hills and valleys of her skin. It budded fantasies like roses, each one unique, but the one most intoxicating was the vision of him reaching for her, pressing her against the banister, and lifting her dress to take her right then and there under the lunar glow. No words. No time for pleasantries.

She blinked as she descended back to some form of reality, trying to figure out, by the Goddess, what had just come over her. Had it really been that long since she’d been taken to bed?

“Excuse me?”

“The moon?” The stranger stepped closer, gesturing upwards, and Isla took him in. Handsome. Very handsome. With his dark hair pushed back from his face and his eyes visions of storm clouds reflecting in the moonlight. “Beautiful.”

Her tongue felt heavy as she spared the goddess a glance. “Yes, it is.”

The stranger moved forward until he was beside her at the railing, leaning against the stone. He turned to face her. “I’m assuming you’re here for the Warrior’s Feast? For the Hunt?”

Isla wouldn’t bother pointing out his incorrect labeling of the night’s gathering. “Yes.”

He looked out at the silent forest before them. “Are you from Callisto?”

“No…” Isla breathed, trying to regain her sense. There was no reason to feel flustered. He was just a very attractive man who came upon her on a night when her libido was at a peak. “Io.”

The stranger smiled, and even though she didn’t know him, the grin seemed out of place.

Her brows furrowed. “What?”

“That was my original assumption,” he said, his features shifting into a faint smirk. “Immediately ready to fight at the slightest sound. Probably try to rip my head off with your teeth.” He nodded to the side. “But then…”

“But…then?”

He glanced up at her again, thunder meeting ice. “Nothing. The whole doe-eyed thing threw me off. My fault, really.” He gazed back up at the cloudless sky. “I mesmerized you.”

“ Mesmerized ?”

It was a strong word—the right word—but too powerful for her liking. She hated that she’d been so transparent and despised that he didn’t seem flattered or surprised. Like he knew exactly where her mind had fallen the second she looked at him.

She narrowed her eyes. “You did not mesmerize me.”

“The pounding of your heart says otherwise.”

Isla placed a hand over her chest, where the organ was surely thrumming wildly beneath her skin.

Mesmerized .

She folded her arms. “Can I help you with something?”

“I was out here first, you know.” He gestured behind them.

Isla followed his movement, turning to take in the actual expanse of the terrace. She’d been so hypnotized by the moon in front of her, she hadn’t noticed how much it extended towards the sides with curved staircases matching those in the hall down to green and blue sprouted gardens. She noted the spots a predator could’ve surely lurked in the shadows.

She glowered into the darkness.

Zero for two tonight in terms of awareness, then.

In the Hunt, distracted could mean as good as dead.

Isla turned back and sized him up. Underneath his black, well-tailored, long coat stitched in intricate patterns of silver, he seemed solidly built, but considering she’d spent the past two years training tirelessly to throw herself into a forest laden with feral beasts, equipped with nothing but her wolf, she probably could’ve taken him if she wanted to. It’d be a hard battle, but she’d hold her own.

“Why are you out here?” she asked him.

Her annoyance and attempts at intimidation seemed to amuse him more than anything. “For the same reason you are, I’m guessing.”

“And that is?”

“Looking for something worthwhile amidst the tedium of the night—and I found you.”

The words escaped his mouth in a way that made Isla’s breath catch, for some reason wooing her into an illusion a bit more innocent than before. Until…

“You win some, you lose some, I suppose.”

Back with the patronizing.

“And there’s that heart again.”

Arrogant prick.

Isla snarled, her lumerosi and eyes glowing as she clenched her fists. The stranger was facing her, not even a foot away.

Isla looked up to meet his eyes, still the same hue. She was a decent height, typical for a she-wolf, but he was a considerable amount above her.Breathing became difficult as that feeling returned. The rush, attraction, hunger—all more intense than before. She struggled to tear her eyes from his but eventually traced the lines of his face, his neck, along his broad chest and shoulders, down his arms to his hands.

All she wanted was for him to touch her .

But just as she moved the slightest fraction to put her on the path to her desire, the creaky glass door from inside flew open. With the spell dimmed but not dissolved, the two wolves turned in its direction.

Then, the intoxication faded to nothing, at least for Isla because powering towards them was Winslow.

“There you are,” the gangly official called, his waving hand high in the air. He was donning Io’s classic maroons and golds, his signature notepad—because there was always work that needed to be done to sustain the prestige of Io and their continent of Morai—tucked under his arm.

“Yes?” Isla took a step back from the stranger, not one to enjoy involving her family, both by blood and those she considered herself closest to in the pack, in any of her personal affairs.

Winslow dropped his hand. “Oh, Isla, what are you doing out here?”

Isla scrunched her brows. He wasn’t looking for her?

Winslow, a man of courtesy until one impeded his objectives, bumped her out of the way and slid an arm behind the stranger’s back. “Please, Alpha Kai, the meal’s about to begin. We have a seat for you above with the other leaders.”

Alpha ?

The stranger, Kai— Alpha Kai—cleared his throat and nodded, his expression flat. He only spared a glance at the bewildered Isla before the two men headed off. She noted the shift in his demeanor. Gone was the cool arrogance, the man who apparently enjoyed pushing her buttons. Now, all he felt was…cold.

Kai.

Isla knew the name of every alpha. She felt like she had to—given that her father was the Imperial Beta, Io’s second-in-command—but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall where Kai belonged.

Going to her failsafe method, she began reciting the packs alphabetically, followed by their leaders to the tune of Will You Find It, a nursery rhyme her mother would coo to her as a child.

In Callisto, you find Alpha Kane.

And in Charon, Alpha Locke.

In Deimos…in Deimos.

Isla clenched her teeth.

The Alpha of Deimos is dead.

But then it hit her, sharp and fast, like a punch in the gut. With wild eyes, she looked up just in time to catch the two figures crossing the threshold, letting the door groan behind them.

The Alpha of Deimos wasn’t dead…he’d just been inches away.