Chapter 10

Isla POV

I turned my head toward him, even in the dim light, I could see the faint outline of his profile—strong jaw, high cheekbones, lips pressed into a line.

“Then why act like it’s not there?”

I wanted to add how.

His gaze flicked to mine, sharp and unyielding.

“Because wanting something doesn’t mean it’s good for you.” The words hit harder than I expected.

“Is that what I am?” I asked, my voice colder now.

“Something bad for you?”

His eyes didn’t leave mine as he said

"You’re dangerous, Isla. You are not Viviana ” The quiet stretched again, heavier this time. I turned onto my side, my back to him, and tried to will the bond to quiet.

It didn’t.

If anything, it pulsed harder, like it was angry at being ignored.

Isla POV

Sleep had never come easily for me in the past, my room had been too cold and the bed too thin.

It was like everything was working toward getting me sick so sleep had been a bit difficult.

The only time I fell asleep quickly was when I was dead tired after days of not sleeping and doing house chores that were enough to make a grown man weep and it didn't seem to have changed even now.

But this time my living conditions had improved and my body was still annoyed with me and everything around me.

The bed was too big,which had been a good thing before but was now such a burden, the sheets too smooth, and then there was the annoying fact that the air smelled too much like Tristan.

Even when I managed to drift off, it felt like the weight of the Ridge pressing in from all sides. But I had finally fallen asleep,so the first thing I became aware of was the sound.

I wasn't know how long I was out for but that sound pulled me back—softly at first, like the faintest whimper.

At first I thought it was a part of my dream, but then I hear it again. Louder. Pained.

It didn't sound human at all too low and broken. I swallowed thinking it was from but when I heard a slight whimpers that were definitely not coming from me.

I blinked in the darkness, disoriented for a moment, as I realized those sounds were truly not coming from me. I turned my head toward the other side of the bed.

Tristan.

That did not seem like it was a usual thing for a man who spoke with steel in his voice. The moonlight spilling through the balcony doors painted his face in pale silver, highlighting the furrow in his brow, the twitch in his jaw.

He was lying beside me, a bit closer now still dressed in the dark shirt he wore earlier, one arm flung over his head. His brows are drawn tight, his jaw clenched, and that low, almost broken sound is coming from him.

His chest kept rising and falling way too fast, like he was running even though he’s trapped in place.

His breathing was uneven, coming in short, sharp bursts and he had one hand clenched in the sheets, the other gripping the pillow like he was holding on for his life. It hit me then—he was dreaming.

No… not just dreaming. Trapped in a nightmare.

For a man like Tristan—the Alpha King, untouchable, unshakable—to look like this… it made something twist inside me. I’d never seen him vulnerable. I wasn’t sure anyone had seen that side of him.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if waking him was a good idea. But the sound he made next—a low, strangled plea—ripped right through me.

Without thinking, I shifted closer, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder.

“Tristan,” I whisper, reaching out before I could stop myself. He didn't wake up and his breathing became even more ragged, and the muscles in his shoulders twitch.

Without thinking, I shift closer, laying a hand on his arm.

“Hey… you’re dreaming. It’s okay.”

“Tristan… wake up,” I whispered. His head jerked slightly, eyes still shut, breathing faster now.

“Hey,” I tried again, a little louder this time, my palm smoothing over the tense muscles of his arm.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.”

I wasn't sure how it happened, one moment I was calming him down and in another swift movement, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and yanking me toward him.

I gasped, losing my balance and falling against his chest, I tried to pull away from him but his arm wrapped around my waist like a steel band, holding me in place, the heat of his body burning through the thin silk of my nightgown.

Before I could say a word, his mouth was on mine and my protest died in my throat when his face dipped toward mine.

The kiss came fast, unexpected, his hand tangled in my hair, holding me there.His mouth was hot, demanding, tasting faintly of mint and heat.

My hands pushed against his chest instinctively, but it was like trying to move a wall, he grabbed at the wrist holding it tightly and kept on kissing me, deepening the kiss.

“Tristan—” I mumbled as I tried breaking the kiss just enough to speak, but his lips were back on mine before I can finish.

His arm slides around my waist, hauling me closer, erasing the last inch of space between us. My wolf whined and the bond burned hotter between us and for one reckless heartbeat, I stopped resisting.

The mate bond flared—sharp, electric—flooding my senses until all I could feel was him, the mate bond between us roaring to life—hot, demanding, impossible to ignore. My wolf all but purred in satisfaction, urging me to give in to him.

Then he murmured underneath his breath

“Viviana…”he breathed against my mouth.

It was a whisper, but it might as well have been a blade to the gut.

The haze of the illusion shattered and my heart drops straight into my stomach, the heat between us turning to ice.

I shoved at him with all the strength I could muster, breaking free from his hold.

“Get off me!”

I shove at his chest with both hands, breaking free of his grip.

He jolted awake at the sudden movement, blinking rapidly. I stumbled back,across the bed breathless, my lips tingling from the kiss as my chest ached in a way that made me furious—with him, with myself, with the damned bond between us.

For a moment, his expression was blank, like he was still caught halfway between the dream and reality, then his eyes focus on me.

His eyes snapped open and for a moment, he looked disoriented, gaze flicking between me and the room. Then his expression hardened.

“What the hell were you doing?” he demanded, sitting up.