But it was the image of Jason appearing when Robin opened her eyes again that had Isaac staggering back.
The niggling sensation in Dylan’s stomach doubled, and his head snapped up. Coldness gripped him when he scanned the crowd and saw no sign of one person.
“Isabella,” was all he said.
Then he was breaking away from the crowd and the guards, shifting to his wolf form, and running for all he was worth.
*****
The cave was a no-go, because Jason would not be stupid enough to take her inside and risk them both being discovered and trapped there. It frustrated Dylan that he didn’t know the woods enough to determine where to go, and had to rely on a certain panther shifter to guide the way.
He felt the presence of Isaac a few minutes after Dylan had shifted and ran through the greenery. They looked at each other in beast form, knowing this time, they weren’t going to be fighting. They were both still injured, but that didn’t matter right now—what mattered was there was no fresh blood to be scented.
In silent agreement, they both ran at the same time, with Isaac slightly ahead leading the way. Only same types of shifters could read each other’s minds, so Dylan had to rely on sense as he followed Isaac through the woods’ twists and turns. He knew they had no time to lose and had to hurry at all costs, otherwise it might be too late for Isabella.
A part of him wondered if it wasn’t already too late.
He should have seen it—should not have trusted Jason so much and taken the evidence at face value. But then again, it had been so well done—almost like Jason knew they would go there, and he decided to frame his brother.
Unless Isaac was also involved?
Dylan’s instinct said otherwise. The rage in Isaac once he found out his sister had disappeared was real and raw, and it burned like a furnace. That same rage was vibrating from him now as he finally stopped at the edge of the woods and looked ahead.
As quiet as the wind, Dylan stopped beside the panther and squinted his eyes. Up ahead, shadows could be seen, surrounded by a force field that could only be magic.
Isabella was inside, tied up and on her knees. Her face was caked in mud, and she was glaring up at Jason.
Beside Dylan, Isaac tensed and attempted to step forward. Dylan blocked the way, his ears perking up as Jason’s voice floated in their direction.
“We could have lived happily and peacefully, Isabella, without you knowing about all this,” Jason was saying, a mournful tone in his voice.
“How many people are involved?” Isabella asked.
“Just me and Clay in this clan. The rest are cowards. Our brother is too prideful to make actual, staggering money.”
“You’re sick.”
A slapping sound flashed in the air as Isabella’s head went down, and this time it was Dylan who tensed.
“Clay,” Jason growled threateningly. “Enough. Isabella, really. I suppose it is pointless to ask you to join our side and keep this from Isaac? We need to kill those strangers so no one knows.”
Silence.
Then Isabella spoke, loud and clear. “Go fuck yourself, Jason.”
Dylan’s heart swelled, never having been prouder. Then pride turned to anger as another slapping sound hit the air, louder this time. Isaac broke into a run, a black blur running straight for the barrier. It held, and he was tossed to the side as the barrier flashed and electrified him, crippling him to the ground.
Dylan came out of his hiding place. He saw Isabella’s eyes widen and intense hate flashing in Jason’s. His eyes scanned the barrier, which wasn’t entirely visible but was shimmering from this distance.
Jason took out a dagger, and Isabella struggled from her bonds.
Dylan. Charge. Now.
Simon’s voice entered his thoughts.
Dylan didn’t hesitate. He charged, faster than his paws had ever taken him, leaping through the air at the last second. An explosion sounded on the other side, and the ground shook with the force of it. Then Robin was shouting and Simon’s blur was there, and Dylan erased everything else in his mind as he landed on Clay, who had just shifted to his panther form to defend himself.
Jason clawed at his back, sparking pain, but he was off in a second. Isabella’s panther form was suddenly rolling on the ground with him, dark brown and brilliant and the most beautiful he’d ever seen. But Clay was taking his attention, trying to kill him with strike after strike—and so Dylan fought back, using all his strength to come out on top. His injuries reopened, and Clay took advantage as he struck in those certain areas.
Simon’s wolf form jumped on Clay, teeth tearing through Clay’s neck. He got in an inch before he was thrown to the ground, a whimper escaping as a spell was thrown his way—meaning the shifter still had some magic inside him even while in beast form. Simon slumped, motionless.
Rage flowed through Dylan.
A surge of power flowed in him, and he used it to tackle Clay to the ground. Then he was tearing and tearing, using his claws and teeth, letting the rage wash over him and turn his vision red.
When he came down from his high, the world returned to focus—and so did Isabella’s voice, as her human form pinned him in place and called out his name over and over. Dylan focused on her, those blue eyes filled with concern and fear, until the rage ebbed away, bit by agonizing bit. He shifted back to human form, and still her voice called him out.
When he looked down, he saw Clay dead and torn apart, his eyeballs and limbs strewn all over the place.
A few meters away, the scent of blood filled the air as Isaac put in the last strike, taking away Jason’s life.
Then a shriek followed, one of mourning, anger and sorrow.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Betrayers of the clan were never buried on their sacred ground, nor were they burned and their ashes kept in their treasure room. Betrayers were tossed in the sea wearing the clothes they had on their back when they died, to be eaten by sharks or washed away to shore, rotting forever.
That was tradition.
And Isabella had to accept tradition, no matter how painful it was.
Isaac needed her support, and so she did her best to silently support her older brother as they did the tossing themselves, watching as Jason’s and Clay’s body floated for a second on the sea before being weighed down by the violent waves. Night darkened even more as clouds rolled over and rain poured without warning, washing away the scents of their fight and the blood that remained on them.
Her hand went to Isaac’s arm, but he neither acknowledged it nor pushed her away. So she held on, gripping tight, as the ship took them back to shore where Dylan and the others were waiting.
Isaac had ignored Dylan for the rest of the night, but he stopped to bark a short statement that the offer for them to stay and rest still stood. Dylan nodded quietly and filed Simon and Robin in. This time, only one guard came with them—a testament to how her older brother thought of the situation now. His face was as placid as ever, almost like nothing major happened. But she knew him well enough.
She knew that façade would crack in time, despite the toughness that he generally exuded.
When they finally got in the cave, Isaac looked at her once.
“Will you be okay?”
Isabella forced herself to nod back. “Yes.”
Either she was good at hiding her real emotions, or Isaac was just too distracted. He accepted her answer at face value and went back out, shifting into his panther form before disappearing into the woods. When something was troubling Isaac, that was what he did—shut off the world until he could handle it again.
And so Isabella must do what she usually did, too.
She went to her own room, not daring to glance at Dylan for fear that he was going to see right through her. Once inside, she stripped off all her clothes and entered the shower, turning it on. Water cascaded down her naked body, warm—but it never really erased the coldness that was inside her, threatening to come out.
She scrubb
ed herself clean, ignoring the sting and only moving her hands faster. When she was squeaky clean, she stepped out wrapped in a towel and dripped all over the floor, sitting on the bed for a few minutes and just staring at the puddle she made.
Slowly, her shoulders started to shake. But no tears came.
A knock sounded on her door, soft but firm. She stood up and went to answer it, not entirely surprised to see Dylan standing there. His brown eyes widened when he saw her state of dress, and she was reminded of the wolf that fought alongside them—the wolf that turned her on more than it should. She saw desire flare in his eyes before he banked it down, his expression now somber as he took her in.
“I’m sorry. Perhaps I should have come at a different time,” he said.
His blond hair was messed, and there were dark circles under his eyes—a far cry from the always cool and always composed man she’d gotten acquainted with. There was a slash just at the corner of his mouth, and he had a shadow of a beard growing on his well-defined jaw.
Desire rose inside her, intense and unreasonable. Ironically, the sight of him without his picture perfect control and charming façade only served to make her like him more. This was the man underneath the leader, and she wanted to get to know him more. Oh, she knew him—knew he was bossy and polite, and had double the compassion underneath the surface. But maybe she wanted to know the man…wanted to taste him.
And maybe she just wanted him inside her.
She took a step forward, licking her lower lip. “Thank you for helping us out.”
His gaze stayed on her face, despite a muscle on his jaw twitching. “You’re welcome. You should get some sleep.”
“I don’t want sleep,” she whispered softly.
“You don’t want this, either,” he said.
She stood on tiptoe and placed her hands on his shoulders until their mouths were level with each other.
“Yes, I do,” was all she whispered back before she closed the distance between them.
It was probably her downfall that she couldn’t forget one pretend kiss, where he showed her that passion could simmer and burst into fire in all but an instant. So she sought out to capture and recreate it, pulling by the lapels of his shirt as she opened her mouth and herself to him completely.
There was a second when he stilled against her, as if shocked. Then she felt a warm arm band around her waist and lift her up in a singular movement before he was carrying her inside the room and shutting the door with a definite click.
Dylan kissed her back, his tongue sliding in and seeking hers in an intimate move that left her breathless. Whatever she sought to recreate was gone as he replaced it with something different altogether—a kiss that was hotter, brighter and so much more than she’d ever felt before.
Her back felt the press of the wall, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself to the hot, hard part of him that was throbbing against her stomach. He smelled like fresh water and grass, along with another scent that was pure, unapologetic male. She steeped herself in his scent and moaned in his mouth when he lifted her higher and drove his covered erection against her very core, which jolted with such intense pleasure. She pressed back, reveling in the tingles that spread up in her and the ball of heat that formed in her belly.
No words were needed. They both wanted it raw and rough, and no other way would do. She nipped at his bottom lip hard, and he retaliated by tearing at her towel and tossing it on the floor. Then he filled his hands with her breasts, thumbing the nipples expertly, his calloused fingers bringing her pinprick after pinprick of pleasure.
His mouth latched on her throat and sucked as his other hand trailed down and touched the part of her that was throbbing the most for him. He slid one finger in, hooked it into a curve.
“So wet,” he groaned, his voice rough and no longer polished. She clutched at his hair in response and moved her hips in time with the rhythm of his finger until he slid another one in.
Then he was thrusting and twisting, at the same time his lips came down to cover one puckered nipple.
It had to be a sin to experience this much pleasure. But Isabella found she didn’t care, only wanting what he was giving her. She urged him on and removed his shirt, letting her hands run all over skin that was hot and hard. But when she tried to touch his cock and wrap her hands around it, he stopped her and only thrust his fingers deeper until her thoughts scattered and her mind went blank.
The climax that followed was vicious and unexpected, shattering the ball of heat and spreading it all over. She let out a silent scream, and he swallowed it in another kiss that was verging on desperation this time.
When she came down from her high, she found his intense brown eyes focused on her, watching. Waiting.
“I couldn’t kill Jason,” Isabella confessed.
Dylan nodded, steadily carrying her to bed and sitting with her on his lap.
“When it came down to deciding, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him,” she said. The words were tumbling out now. “I froze. I couldn’t. And I ended up almost killing Isaac in the process.”
“Shhh.”
“It hurts. It hurts so much.”
And then the tears spilled out. She blinked and blinked, but they kept coming out. Instead of telling her to stop, Dylan let her cry, his arms wrapping around her and giving her a blanket of comfort to lean on.
Isabella placed her head on his chest and let the storm come.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dylan woke up to the sound of silence. He glanced at the space beside him—Isabella’s bed—and found nothing but messy, empty sheets. The spot was cold, which meant she’d left a while ago.
Which meant he got his answer.
Although it was hard, he decided not to give her grief about it. They had shared too much last night for something so petty, and they both needed time. Hell, he needed time to figure out what this was that was going on with her. On top of that, there were still so many responsibilities he needed to get back to.
He went to Isaac first, who looked better this morning than he did last night—though that wasn’t saying much, since it was obvious the panther clan leader didn’t get any sleep. Dylan asked for a meeting with him, and when it was granted immediately, he began to explain everything again in detail—this time, leaving out nothing, not even what Isabella told him last night about how Jason found out of their kiss in the island. Isaac’s face hardened but gave nothing away, and when Dylan was done, he waited for the other to speak.
“You are welcome in this area whenever you feel the need to visit. And you may ask for my assistance in whatever help you need. But I think an official alliance is not needed at the moment.”
That was better than he expected, and Dylan held out his hand in agreement. They shook on it. Then Dylan declared it was time for them to leave and for him to take care of matters in New York.
The trip out of the area was quiet, with a guard escorting them so they wouldn’t get lost and another carrying a sleep-induced Lance with them. A private plane was provided, courtesy of Isaac, and they all climbed in and fastened their seatbelts. Robin looked a little green as she clutched her bandaged arm to her side and muttered about how she really, really disliked tiny planes.
It was safe to predict that by the end of this flight, whatever was in the witch’s stomach was going to end up right back out.
*****
New York kept him busy enough that he had no time to think of much, most especially Isabella. There were matters that Henrik wasn’t able to handle personally due to some prejudice and general distrust, so Dylan stepped up to the position right away and handled all the items in his checklist. He gave Simon and Robin their due for a mission well done, and ordered them to take lots of rest indefinitely until he called for them again.
When he wasn’t busy dealing with internal conflicts and general decision making aspects, he busied himself with training—something he hadn’t really done in quite a while. There weren’t many
shifters who matched his strength in human form, but Henrik was one of them, and so they sparred whenever the dragon shifter was in town without the other asking any unwelcome questions. When Simon was well enough a day later, he requested to join in and was immediately pummeled to the ground. But he got up, again and again, accepting all criticism that was thrown his way more determined than ever.
When Dylan finally excused him and told him to get his limp checked by their resident nurse Annie, Henrik watched his back quietly until he disappeared from sight. They both rested on their feet, not quite yet done with their spar.
“What happened back there?” Henrik finally asked, his tone casual and careful.
Dylan shook his head. “Tonight. I’m calling a meeting for all the clan leaders. I want you all to know.”
Henrik nodded, not probing. He went into position, and Dylan followed.
Then they continued sparring.
*****
Lance woke up two days later as predicted, since Robin didn’t want to take any chances and placed the heaviest sleep potion on him. He’d been placed in a dungeon the whole time, and Dylan visited him once to check up on his condition. Now, he stood again outside the cell bars and watched his half-brother spew bitterness at him about how he should have been leader but wasn’t, hence he needed to make himself powerful in another place and time.
It reminded Dylan so much of Jason’s own bitterness towards Isaac’s leadership, though he’d been less vocal about that. It also made him question himself, if there was something he could have done to prevent his brother from turning to the dark side.
Thirty minutes later, Lance’s spewing turned to pleading. Then, more hate and curses aimed in Dylan’s direction. He realized that his brother was beyond help in this state, and so he decided not to say anything. He turned back around, prepared to leave as silently as he came.
Until Lance stopped him with a few words.
“There are other islands.”
Slowly, Dylan turned back around, his expression and tone deadly calm. “Other islands?”
A gleam entered Lance’s eyes, as if he knew Dylan had already taken the bait. He shrugged, voice turning sly.
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