Chapter 98: Fate
The days crept by with a suffocating sense of anticipation. There had been no news from Raven or Silas, and Brienne’s disappearance remained a silent wound no one dared to speak of too often. Every decision, every movement was clouded by the weight of Isla’s bloodline and the dark forces circling ever closer.
But it wasn’t just the outside threats pressing in on them. Isla could feel the changes in her body, the way exhaustion came swiftly and without warning, how her senses felt heightened to an almost unbearable degree and Damian had noticed.
He had always been protective, but now it was as if an invisible tether connected them, pulling him toward her at all times. Every glance, every touch, carried something deeper, worry, need and devotion. She could feel it in his presence, in the way his fingers would brush against her skin absentmindedly, as if reassuring himself that she was still there.
But tonight, that concern burned into something else.
The war room was empty when Isla found him. Maps and battle plans lay scattered across the table, but Damian wasn’t studying them. He stood by the window, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his shoulders taut with barely restrained energy.
She knew that tension.
Without a word, she stepped behind him, placing her hands against his back, feeling the heat of him through his shirt.
"You’re brooding," she murmured.
His muscles tightened beneath her touch. "You’re exhausted." His voice was thick, edged with something raw.
"I’m fine."
He turned, and in an instant, she was caged between his arms and the wall, his body pressed just close enough to make her breath hitch. His silver eyes burned into hers, flickering with emotions he wasn’t voicing.
"You keep saying that," he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher. "But I see it. I feel it, Isla."
Her lips parted, her heartbeat skittering under his intense gaze. "Damian…"
"You think I don’t know when you’re keeping something from me?" His fingers ghosted over her collarbone, tracing a path down to her wrist where her pulse thrummed wildly. "Your scent is different. Your body is changing and I know what it means."
Her stomach tightened. She had known for weeks now. But there was something else, something more she hadn’t dared to admit.
His nose brushed against her cheek, just barely, and her knees almost buckled. His breath was warm against her skin, his voice threading through her like a fever.
"You think I wouldn’t notice the way your body pulls toward mine? Even now, your pulse is begging me to come closer."
She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn’t want to worry you."
His jaw tensed. "I am worried. Not just because you’re carrying our child, but because there’s something else happening to you."
A shiver ran down her spine at the possessiveness in his voice, the fierce protectiveness that always lingered beneath his every action.
"You’re hiding something from me," he continued, his fingers tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. "What is it, Isla?"
She hesitated, her lips parting, but before she could answer, the door swung open.
Alaine stood in the doorway, her gaze flicking between them before settling on Damian. "Leo just returned. He has information about Vincent."
Damian exhaled sharply, his body still taut with tension. He held Isla’s gaze a moment longer before stepping back.
"This isn’t over," he murmured.
Isla let out a slow breath as he strode past Alaine, leaving her alone with his sister.
Alaine arched a brow. "I take it he knows?"
Isla pressed a hand to her stomach, nodding. "He knew before I ever said anything."
Alaine smirked. "Of course he did. He’s insufferable like that."
But there was something else in her tone, something softer. Isla caught the way Alaine’s expression flickered for just a moment, and suddenly, she knew.
"You’ve been spending a lot of time with Leo," Isla mused.
Alaine rolled her eyes. "Don’t start."
Isla tilted her head. "Oh, I’m starting."
Alaine groaned. "I don’t know what it is, alright? He gets under my skin. He’s infuriating, arrogant, and yet…" She hesitated, crossing her arms over her chest.
"There’s something about him."
Isla grinned. "And?"
"And I’m not ready to deal with it," Alaine admitted, but there was no real conviction in her voice.
Isla laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re going to have to, eventually."
Alaine’s expression turned serious. "Yeah, well, first we need to deal with Vincent."
The reminder sent a cold wave through Isla’s veins. Vincent was a constant reminder of her ties to a past she hadn’t ever recalled before a few months ago, on top of that, Brienne continued to be missing and her bloodline called at her, even in her dreams. It was clear that the storm was once again coming and none of them would escape it unchanged.