Page 20

SEVENTEEN

ISOLDE

I solde paced the length of her suite in Nereus's castle.

Without consciously thinking, she began combing her fingers through her blonde hair in agitation.

The stone walls that had seemed grand and romantic just days ago now felt like the confines of a gilded cage.

Through the ornate windows, she could see the ocean glittering beyond the castle grounds, calling to her with a familiar song that now carried new meaning.

"I don't even know what I'm doing here exactly. I feel like I'm under some kind of spell whenever Nereus is around," she murmured to her reflection in a massive antique mirror.

For the past week, she had been at Nereus's beck and call—training her newfound powers, learning pack customs and traditions, and trying to win over wolf shifters who looked at her with thinly veiled disdain. She'd barely had time to breathe, let alone think about what this all meant for her life.

She soon flopped onto her four-poster bed, staring at the canopy above.

She hadn't been back to her houseboat once.

Hadn't called her work colleagues to check in.

Hadn't even thought about what would become of her career as a marine biologist after she becomes Luna of the Seafang pack.

The tidal wave she had unwittingly caused had destroyed her workplace, but Nereus was rebuilding it with a wave of his financial power—just another example of how swiftly he took control of every situation.

"Damn it." She sat up and grabbed a decorative pillow, hugging it to her chest. "When did I become this person who just... follows along with everything?"

Before meeting Nereus, she had been fiercely independent. Sure, she struggled with standing up for herself sometimes, but she had built her life around her own passions and choices. Now she was letting Nereus dictate her schedule, her training, even where she lived.

The memory of their encounter in the cave flushed her skin with heat. The sex was mind-blowing, but those attackers... they weren't random. Someone in the pack wanted her gone.

"Because I'm human," she whispered, the revelation settling like ice in her stomach.

She had overheard the whispers when Nereus wasn't around or paying attention. A human Luna? Unprecedented. Unacceptable. A threat to their bloodlines. No wonder someone had tried to eliminate her today.

She stood and walked to the window, pressing her palm against the cool glass. The ocean responded to her emotions, waves rising slightly in the distance.

"I need to get back to my life," she decided. "At least part of it."

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Enter," she called, surprised by the authority in her own voice.

A young woman—Mira, one of the few staff members who treated her with some respect—stepped into the room with fresh towels.

"Is there anything you need, Miss Isolde?"

Isolde studied the woman, noting how carefully she avoided using the title "Luna."

"Actually, yes. Has His Royal Highness mentioned when he'll return from his meeting with Damien?"

Mira's eyes flickered nervously. "I believe they'll be discussing security matters for some time. The alpha was... quite angry about the attack."

"I bet he was," Isolde muttered. Nereus's grave concern for her safety after the fight had been evident. He had practically vibrated with protective fury. "Tell me, Mira, do many in the pack share the opinion that I don't belong here?"

The towels in Mira's hands wrinkled under her tightening grip. "It's not my place to?—"

"Please. I need to know what I'm up against."

Mira sighed. "There are... traditions. Expectations. A human Luna is difficult for some to accept."

"Even though I have magical water powers?"

"Some believe those powers would be better served by a true wolf shifter."

Isolde nodded slowly. "And the attackers in the cave?"

"I couldn't possibly know?—"

"Was it someone from the pack? Someone who doesn't want Nereus to claim me?"

Mira placed the towels down and moved toward the door. "You should discuss this with the alpha when he returns."

"Of course. Thank you, Mira."

When the door closed, Isolde felt the weight of her situation press down on her.

She was expected to be this powerful Luna, yet the pack wouldn't accept her until Nereus officially claimed her, and Nereus wouldn't claim her until.

.. what? Until she was ready? Until she proved herself to the pack?

Meanwhile, she was letting her identity, her independence, just slip away.

"No more," she said firmly. "I need some balance and space." Besides, as long as she was on the water, she could protect herself from just about anything. She was a Luna, for crying out loud.

The ocean outside responded to her resolve, waves smoothing into gentle ripples. Isolde smiled. At least one relationship in her life was improving.

She slipped out of the castle without telling anyone. She needed space from Nereus, from the pack, and from the constant pressure of becoming someone she didn't fully recognize yet. The weight of her new identity pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe within those stone walls.

The silver Aston Martin purred to life as she started the ignition.

It felt defiantly good to take his most ostentatious car.

"Fastest in my collection," he had said with that infuriatingly sexy half-smile.

She hadn't understood at the time why his arrogance both irritated and aroused her—but now she recognized it as the confidence of an alpha who had spent centuries getting his own way.

"Not tonight," she muttered, revving the engine and peeling out of the castle's garage with more speed than necessary.

The coastal highway stretched before her like a ribbon of freedom.

She rolled down the windows, letting the salty air whip her hair into wild tangles.

The ocean paralleled her drive, its rhythmic waves seeming to pace her journey home.

Home—the word felt strange now. After just a week, her houseboat already felt like a relic from someone else's life.

"Dr. Isolde Morgan," she said aloud, testing the sound of her professional title. "Marine biologist. Defender of coral reefs. Researcher of cetacean migration patterns."

Those identities felt clearer, more solid than "Luna of the Seafang pack" or "mate to Prince Nereus." She flexed her fingers on the steering wheel, remembering how those same hands had once carefully collected water samples and tagged endangered sea turtles in her college days.

"I spent three years tracking migration patterns of sperm whales," she reminded herself. "I published in the Journal of Marine Sciences. I have a life—a real one."

The memory of her research made her smile. She had been on the verge of a breakthrough regarding sperm whale feeding habits regulating the ocean's nutrient cycle just before her birthday. Would she ever get back to that work? Could she balance being Luna with being a scientist?

"You're not just his," she told her reflection in the rearview mirror. "You had a purpose before him."

The speedometer crept higher as memories of her former life flooded back.

Sunrise boat launches with her research team.

Late nights analyzing data while anchored in her houseboat, the gentle rocking lulling her into a state of perfect concentration.

The triumph of securing grant money for her conservation projects.

Her new phone buzzed insistently on the passenger seat. Nereus's name flashed on the screen, accompanied by a photo she'd sneakily taken of him staring out at the ocean, his profile sharp against the sunset. She ignored it.

"You don't get to dictate my every move," she said to the ringing phone. "I'm not some puppet you can control."

The phone fell silent, only to start buzzing again seconds later.

She sighed. That was Nereus—persistent, demanding, and unwilling to accept being ignored. Part of her admired his relentlessness. The same quality that made him impossible to refuse also made him an exceptional leader.

The ocean beside her churned slightly, responding to her conflicted emotions. With a deep breath, she calmed herself, watching the waters smooth in response.

"At least I'm getting better at that," she murmured, pride warming her chest.

As the familiar turnoff to her houseboat approached, Isolde felt a pang of longing for the simple life she'd had before her birthday. A life without pack politics, without people hating her because she was human, or an overwhelmingly attractive wolf shifter who looked at her like she hung the moon.

"Just one night," she said to herself. "One night to remember who Isolde Morgan really is."

Her hands trembled as she guided the sleek Aston Martin along the worn dock path toward her houseboat.

The expensive vehicle looked absurdly out of place beside her weathered but beloved floating home and her used silver Lexus.

She cut the engine, letting silence wash over her as the gentle lapping of water against the hull filled the emptiness.

"Home," she whispered, her voice breaking on that single syllable.

Her houseboat swayed slightly in greeting as she stepped onto the deck.

Unlike Nereus's castle with its imposing stone walls and formal staff, this place was truly hers decorated with colorful throw pillows, shelves overflowing with marine biology texts, and windowsills lined with shells she had collected over the years.

She ran her fingers along the sun-bleached handrail, remembering countless mornings spent right here with coffee in hand, watching dolphins play in the dawn light. The familiar scent of salt mixed with old wood enveloped her, bringing a wave of tears.

"I can't just abandon all this," she murmured, moving inside where research papers and water sample kits still covered her small dining table. "My entire life is here."

Her doctoral diploma hung crookedly on the wall—the culmination of years of study and dedication. Beside it, a framed photograph showed Isolde knee-deep in tide pools, teaching local children about marine conservation.

"That's who I am," she said, touching the glass. "Not some mystical Luna figure for a pack that doesn't even want me."

The reality of her situation crashed over her like a rogue wave.

She had spent the past week so caught up in Nereus's world—the training, the sex, the politics—that she had forgotten the foundation she'd built for herself.

Years of research, of fighting for ocean conservation, all apparently meant to be cast aside for a role she never asked for.

She collapsed onto her sofa, burying her face in a familiar throw pillow. "He can't expect me to just surrender my entire life and identity."

Even as she said it, her body ached with longing for Nereus—his touch, his scent, and his commanding presence. The mate bond pulled at her like an invisible cord connecting their souls.

"If he's managed this long without a Luna, he'll be fine on his own," she tried convincing herself, but the words felt hollow.

The tears came harder now, streaming down her cheeks as she hugged her knees to her chest. "I can't be what they want or need.

I'll never be good enough for them. I’m a human . "

The memory of those attackers in the cave flashed through her mind—the hatred in their eyes when they had lunged at her. Just for being human. Just for existing.

"They'll never accept me," she sobbed. "And I can't spend my life fighting an entire pack just because fate decided to play a cruel joke on me."

Outside, the water churned in response to her distress, waves slapping harder against the houseboat's hull. Her newfound connection to the ocean—once a source of wonder—now felt like another burden in this moment.

"I'm supposed to just accept that we're fated mates and surrender my entire life?" She wiped angrily at her tears. "That's not fair."

Her phone buzzed relentlessly on the coffee table where she had tossed it. Nereus's name flashed on the screen again and again. With each ignored call, the ache in her chest intensified.

"I can't be the Luna just for him," she whispered, even as her soul screamed otherwise. "I'll get over this. Somehow."

She stumbled to her bedroom, collapsing onto sheets that smelled of home rather than Nereus. The buzzing of her phone continued from the other room as she curled into herself, sobs racking her body until exhaustion finally pulled her into merciful darkness.