Chapter 50 A trip back to the North
Maureen Laurent
The island was trying to keep us.
Warm fingers of jasmine and sea-salt curled around my wrists as I stood at the very edge of the private dock, bare toes gripping the sun-bleached wood. The turquoise water lapped gently beneath the pylons, whispering stay, stay, stay, while the helicopter blades above already screamed that it was time to leave.
The black cat we’d saved from drowning earlier clung to me like she’d never let go—tucked so tightly against my chest that I could feel her tiny heart racing, as if she was convinced we might vanish the second she blinked. Vuk and I exchanged a quiet look, then decided right there on the dock: her name would be Gold.
It didn’t matter that her fur was deepest midnight, glossy as wet obsidian under the island sun. The name felt right—something bright and defiant against all the shadows she’d almost been lost to. And somehow, it suited her perfectly.
She was impossibly pretty, with those huge, luminous green eyes that caught every flicker of light, and a delicate face that made her look both fierce and endlessly vulnerable at once. Adorable didn’t even cover it—she was the kind of beautiful that sneaks up on you and steals your breath.
And oh, how she loved Vuk’s hair.
She’d bat at the dark strands whenever he crouched low enough, paws quick and playful like she was trying to catch falling stars. Sometimes she’d leap onto his shoulder, tiny claws pricking gently through his shirt, then burrow her face into the thick waves at the nape of his neck, purring so loudly it vibrated through both of them. He’d just huff a soft laugh, reach up with one careful hand, and let her stay—like she’d always belonged exactly there.
I looked back over my shoulder.
Vuk stood a few paces away, arms crossed, black linen shirt open at the throat, sleeves rolled to the elbows. The wind off the water lifted strands of his dark hair and pressed the fabric against the hard planes of his chest. The golden veins beneath his skin were calm today, banked low like dying embers. No rage. No hunger. Just quiet, watchful possession.
“I’m going to miss this,” I said, voice softer than I meant it to be.
He stepped closer until the heat of him brushed my back. One large hand settled on my hip—gentle, steady, thumb tracing a slow arc over the thin silk of my dress.
“Miss what?” he asked, low. His breath stirred the fine hairs at my nape.
“Everything.” I gestured vaguely with the hand not cradling Gold. “The warmth that sinks into your bones instead of biting them. The way the sun lingers on your skin for hours. The sound of waves instead of wind howling through stone corridors. The fact that… for once, no one is trying to kill us.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—the rare one that was only for me, soft at the edges.
“You really do love this place,” he murmured.
“Of course I do.” I turned in his hold, careful not to jostle Gold, and slid my free hand up his chest until our fingers intertwined. “But I love where you are better.”
His gaze darkened—not with hunger this time, but with something deeper, quieter. Something that still made my heart stutter after all these months.
He leaned down and pressed his forehead to mine. “Then come home with me, little moon. I’ll make sure the fortress remembers how to be warm for you.”
Gold chose that moment to stretch, tiny paws pressing into my collarbone, and let out the smallest, most indignant meow when the helicopter blades chopped the air louder.
Vuk chuckled—low, rough, beautiful—and lifted her from my arms, settling her against his shoulder like she weighed nothing. “Time to go, tyrant.”
We boarded the jet hand-in-hand.
The flight back was quiet. I curled against Vuk’s side on the wide leather seat, Gold tucked between us, and let the steady thrum of the engines lull me under. My eyes grew heavy almost immediately—far heavier than they should have. The last thing I remembered was Vuk pressing a kiss to my temple, murmuring something soft I couldn’t quite catch, and then darkness folded over me like warm velvet.
I didn’t wake up on the jet.
I woke up in our bed.
The familiar scent of pine, midnight snow, and smoldering hellfire hit me first—then the cold that always lived in the stone walls of the Northern Dominion, even in the deepest parts of the private wing. My body felt leaden, limbs loose and strangely heavy, like I’d been carried here and arranged just so.
The room was dim, lit only by the low, amber glow of the wall sconces. Black furs were pulled up to my chest. Gold was curled in a tight midnight ball against my stomach, purring steadily
I blinked slowly, trying to piece it together.
I was wearing a long, blood-red nightgown—silk so fine it felt like liquid sliding over my skin, the neckline plunging low between my breasts, the hem brushing my ankles. It clung in places it hadn’t before, especially across my chest and hips. The fabric felt… tighter. Warmer. Almost too warm.
I hadn’t changed myself. I hadn’t even felt the landing.
Vuk had carried me all the way from the jet, undressed me, slipped this gown over my head, and tucked me in—while I slept through every single second of it.
My heart gave a funny little lurch. Part tenderness. Part something sharper.
I sat up slowly. The room tilted for a heartbeat, then steadied. My skin felt flushed, feverish. My breasts ached in a dull, unfamiliar way. Between my legs there was a strange, heavy warmth that had nothing to do with desire.
I pressed a hand to my lower belly without thinking.
Nothing moved. Nothing fluttered.But the heat lingered.
I swallowed and looked around. The bed beside me was empty. Cold.
I pushed the furs back, swung my legs over the edge, and padded barefoot to the door. The corridor beyond was silent—unnatural silence, the kind that only came in the small hours when even the guards moved like ghosts.
I pressed the silver bell cord.
Livia appeared almost instantly—quiet, composed, silver crest gleaming on her black dress.
She dipped her head. “My lady. Welcome home.”
“Vuk…?” My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
“The Alpha brought you in himself,” she said gently. “You were deeply asleep. He carried you straight from the jet to your chambers, changed your clothes, and asked that no one disturb you until you woke. He… had to leave shortly after. Urgent council business. He said he would return before dawn.”
I nodded, throat suddenly tight. He’d carried me. Dressed me. Kissed my forehead while I slept through it all.And then left me alone in this frozen place without a word.
“Tea, please,” I managed. “Something herbal. I feel… dehydrated. And strangely hot.”
“Of course.” Livia didn’t comment on the flush creeping up my neck or the way my hands trembled slightly.
The tea arrived on a silver tray—chamomile and honey, steaming gently. I tried to eat the small plate of fruit and bread beside it, but the first bite of apple turned metallic and sour in my mouth. My stomach rolled hard. I pushed the plate away.
“Maybe it’s just the travel,” I muttered to the empty room. “Island warmth to frozen stone. My body’s confused.”
I crawled back into the bed, curling tight around Gold and the lingering scent of Vuk on the pillows. I tried to think—tried to hold onto the softness of the island, the way he’d smiled only for me, the way Gold had claimed us both.
But the heat kept building. Slow. Relentless. Like a fever that refused to break.
I slept again.
When I woke the second time, the room was midnight-dark. The bed beside me was still empty.
I sat up. Heat rolled through me in waves—deep, bone-melting, nothing like the crisp bite of the North I’d grown used to. My skin felt too tight. My breasts ached. My pulse thrummed low in my belly, insistent, strange.
I stumbled into the bathroom, shedding the nightgown as I went. The shower was scalding—I turned it colder, then colder still, until ice pricked my skin. It helped for a moment. Then the heat crept back, stubborn.
Wrapped in the red silk again, I left the room.
The entire wing was silent.
I found one of the night guards on patrol near the grand staircase—young, silver-eyed, throat bared the second he saw me.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
He swallowed. “It’s late, my lady. The Alpha… he left word that if you needed anything—”
“He left?” The word came out sharper than I intended. Anger flared—sudden, hot, almost irrational.
The guard’s gaze dropped. “Council business, my lady. Urgent. He said he would return before dawn.”
I shook my head, dismissing him, and returned to the chamber.
The bed felt too big. Too cold.
I crawled beneath the furs anyway, curling tight around myself. The heat kept building—slow, relentless, like something alive beneath my ribs.
I pressed a hand to my lower belly again.
This time, there was the faintest flutter. Barely there. Easy to mistake for imagination.
I froze.
Then the heat surged again, sharper, deeper, and my breath caught.
“Why the heck am I so hot in a frozen land?” I whispered to the empty dark.