Chapter 67

Tristan POV

The truth clawed at me. She wasn’t wrong. Vivianna had a way of slipping past my guard, of making me forget myself for a fleeting, foolish moment.

When I was with her, I forgot all about right and wrong, but now I'm realizing that it wasn't how I felt about her that made me keep going back; it was the fact that she represented something that I no longer was.

A reminder of old desires and familiar games.

But it was hollow.

I knew it was hollow. And still, I’d let Isla see it.

I exhaled slowly, the weight of my own failure pressing down on my chest. “You’re right,” I admitted, my voice low. “I made a mistake.”

She blinked, surprised at the confession.

“Whatever you think you saw between me and Viviana…” My throat worked. “They’re just leftover feelings. Echoes of something that died a long time ago. They’re not real…at least, not anymore.”

Silence stretched between us. Isla’s lips trembled, but her chin lifted stubbornly. “Then why does it feel like no one ever chooses me?”

The rawness in her voice gutted me.

She wasn’t spitting fire anymore; she was bearing old wounds. And for the first time, I saw her not just as my mate, not just as the woman fate shoved into my path, but as a person carrying scars of her own.

“I try, Tristan.” She whispered, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I try so hard to be enough. But no matter what I do, it’s never me. Not for my pack, not for my family, not for you. Why is it so hard for anyone to just… see me?”

My heart stuttered.

I saw her.

Right then, in that fragile moment, I saw her in a way I hadn’t before. Her beauty was undeniable… the curve of her lips, the way her nightgown framed her body… but it wasn’t just that.

It was the fire in her spirit, the loyalty in her words, the strength to demand what she deserved. She wasn’t Vivianna, who played with desire like it was a dagger, using it to twist people's desires until she got what she wanted.

Isla was real.

No games or charades. Flesh and soul, unguarded and waiting to be chosen.

Something shifted in me at that moment.

I reached out, hesitating for a second before brushing my fingers against hers. She startled slightly but thankfully didn’t pull away. “Isla, I know I might not have said this to you before, but….” I said, my voice rough, “....you are more than enough. More than I deserve.”

Her eyes searched mine, wide and wary, as if she wasn’t sure whether to believe me.

And for the first time, I wanted her to.

I let my gaze linger, tracing the slope of her shoulders, the delicate lines of her collarbone, the rise and fall of her breath beneath the thin fabric.

Desire stirred low in me, insistent, but this time it wasn’t about games or fleeting lust. It was about her.

The mate I hadn’t wanted, but the woman I couldn’t ignore anymore.

Right then, I realized how foolish I was for chasing someone who wasn't as valuable as the woman sitting before me.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak before the silence burned us alive. “Isla, there's um… something I have to ask you,” I said quietly. “Is there anything… between you and Kieran?”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“I need to know,” I admitted, my voice sharper than intended. “Because he looks at you like….like he wants you and I can’t…” I clenched my jaw. “I can’t ignore that.”

Her answer came without hesitation. “Tristan, Kieran isn't my mate, you are. Whatever you think you see… It’s not real. He can want all he wants, but the Moon Goddess joined us together for a reason.”

The certainty in her words hit me harder than a blow and it sealed things up for me.

She was indeed loyal.

To me. Even when I didn’t deserve it.

I let out a shaky breath, my chest tight with something that felt dangerously close to yearning. “Forgive me, Isla. You're simply…perfect and everything that I could ever need.” I murmured, almost to myself. “And I’ve been too blind, too stubborn, to see it.”

Her lips parted slightly, her eyes softening, the anger ebbing into something else.

Something warmer.

The distance between us suddenly felt unbearable. My fingers tightened around hers, and for the first time, I didn’t fight the pull of the bond.

I welcomed it.

The air between us vibrated with something different.

Like the quiet, heavy realization that my heart had shifted.

That Isla wasn’t just someone fate chose for me. She was someone with whom I could build my future.

And that terrified me more than anything.

Isla POV

I stirred awake slowly, the weight of sleep still clinging to my limbs.

The first thing I noticed was the faint clinking of porcelain, soft and out of place in the silence of the room.

My eyes snapped open, and for a moment I lay there still, listening. It wasn’t the sound of servants walking down the hallway or the bustling outside the courtyard….it was actually closer, nearer.

I pushed myself up on my elbows, blinking as the morning light spilled in through the tall windows. Then I froze, my eyes going wide at the sight before me.

A small table had been wheeled into the room, draped in white linen, steam rising from covered dishes.

The scent of fresh bread and roasted meats wafted through the air, causing my mouth to water in delight.

And Tristan… my mate and a perpetual enigma… was seated already, one hand resting lightly on his cup, as if this was the most normal thing in the whole world.

My confusion must have been painted all over my face as I sat up. “What is this?” I asked softly, my voice still hoarse from sleep.

He looked up at me then, his golden eyes unreadable, calm in that detached way he always carried himself. “I got us breakfast.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor grounding me. “But why here? We never eat here and you always insist on eating in the hall.”

Tristan lifted the cup to his lips, pausing for only a moment before he answered. “Maybe I wanted something different today.”

Something different.

My brows furrowed as I mulled over his words.

That wasn’t like him at all.

Tristan thrived on routine and control and the order of things seemed to ground him.

For him to break it… even in something as small as breakfast…made my stomach tighten with unease.

Did I do something wrong?

I rose and tugged my nightgown closer around me. It was silk, a pale shade of cream, something Lily had set out for me last night.