Isla was practically an open book. Her irritation was painted all over her face. Dominic found it amusing. Teasing her had become a kind of addiction, and each reaction from her was a reward he didn't know he'd craved.
"You brought me here, Dominic. Don't you think it's only fair that you take me back too?" Isla said, keeping her voice steady while her expression stayed neutral.
"Come on, you're going to be his wife soon. I promise I'll return him before the night is over," Carina pouted, her tone falsely sweet.
Dominic watched her act as though she was a candid woman who had an air of innocence around her. She was trying way too hard to get his attention. Her flirtation was obvious, almost desperate. But his gaze drifted back to Isla just in time to see something unexpected.
The frown on her face softened. Then, a small, sly smile tugged at her lips.
She stepped closer to Dominic and casually slipped her arm through his.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Carina," she said with sugary venom. "But I don't like sharing. What's mine stays mine. Enjoy your evening."
Carina's eyes widened in disbelief, but Isla ignored her.
"Let's go, honey. I'm starving," Isla added, looking up at Dominic with a sparkle in her eyes that silently begged him to play along.
"You heard her, Carina. Looks like we'll be parting ways here," Dominic said smoothly before walking away, Isla still linked to him.
This side of her was unexpected. He hadn't seen her like this—confident, sharp-tongued, and possessive. He liked it more than he should've.
When they reached the car, he glanced at her with a teasing smile. "Dinner at the packhouse or a restaurant, darling?"
"Don't get any ideas," she muttered, turning her face away. "I just didn't want to go back to the packhouse alone."
The blush rising in her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment. It was... adorable.
They ended up at a quiet restaurant thirty minutes later. To his surprise, Isla insisted on ordering an alcoholic wine.
"How did you know I was unconscious in the tub?" Dominic asked suddenly, watching her reaction closely.
Her eyes widened, startled like a deer caught in headlights. "I... I don't know. It felt like a trance. I saw you. I felt your pain. There was blood... I don't know how, but I knew you were hurt."
Dominic stared at her, confused. That kind of vision wasn't normal. Not for mates who hadn't sealed their bond.
"Our connection isn't complete," Isla continued, taking another sip. "I haven't accepted you yet. It shouldn't be possible."
"Careful, or you'll get drunk," Dominic warned as she drained her glass.
She flashed him a tired smile. "Too much has happened. I'm still trying to make sense of it all."
"Do you feel like you're struggling?" he asked gently.
"Maybe. Maybe not." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"You're marrying your father's enemy. That must be hard," he said, watching her.
She poured herself another glass of wine without a word.
"You once said you plan to use me against my father," she said suddenly, her movements sluggish.
"I did."
"Well," she hiccuped, slumping forward on the table, "Good luck with that."
He watched her, mildly amused. She was clearly a lightweight.
....
The Next Day,
Dominic sat at his desk, staring at a photo on his phone. It was a photo of Isla, fast asleep from the night before. Her red hair was spilled over the pillow like a soft halo, and the small mole above her upper lip was striking. Her parted lips, the crease in her brow even while resting...
He couldn't look away.
He could blame the bond if he wanted. But deep down, he knew this pull toward her was something more. Something dangerous. She could flip out on him at any time. She was her father's daughter after all. The only reason she wasn't running away from him was clearly because she needed his protection. It was the only way she could hide from Mikael.
A knock on the door broke his thoughts.
"Come in," he called.
Gael walked in, a blank look on his face as usual. He had always been the master of the poker face. Even so, Dominic was always able to tell what was going through his mind. And in this moment, Dominic could tell that his zeta was worried about something.
"What's wrong?" He asked, and Gael sat down in front of the desk, rubbing his bandaged arm.
"The werewolf council has been in contact with Amelia," he said.
"It was only a matter of time," Dominic replied.
"Aren't you worried? She has what you really want. If she realizes that she has the upper hand, the situation might get out of hand," he said.
"Keep an eye on her," Dominic said.
"Me?"
"Yes, you. Casino told me you've been keeping to your room lately. We all remember what happened the last time you were in this state."
Gael looked down, his jaw clenched. "That bastard..."
"You're going to be working with that bastard. Like it or not," Dominic said.
"I don't want to work with him," Gael protested.
"It doesn't matter. You're going to be really busy, Gael."
....
Later, when he returned to the packhouse, Dominic caught the scent of grilled chicken. He followed it into the kitchen and stopped when he heard her voice.
Isla.
She was on the phone, unaware of his presence. "...I don't understand. How did his essence end up in my body?"
Dominic's eyes narrowed. He didn't need confirmation. She was talking to someone from the council. The same people who had been hunting him for years. Now, they were using Isla as their weapon.
While he thought about this, Isla suddenly flinched and turned around. Her eyes widened, and she quickly lowered her phone from her ear.
He watched her intently, intrigued.
She must've sensed him again because of the bond, or was it his scent? He wondered.
Moving past her, he poured himself a glass of water and brought it to his lips.
"When did you get here?" Isla asked, and he glanced at the microwave as the smell of burning food flooded his nostrils.
"You should get that," he said, and she let out a squeal of surprise and hurriedly slipped on a pair of mittens.
She turned off the microwave and took out what seemed to be a burnt offering for a deity.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked quietly.
"It was my best friend," she replied, and Dominic narrowed his eyes at her when he felt her uncertainty.
"You're lying," he said to her, and she cleared her throat, bringing a hand to her right ear.
"I'm not."
Dominic stalked towards her while she stood by the counter frozen, her eyes darting around the kitchen, searching for an escape route.
"You probably don't know this, but I can see right through you," he said, and she gulped.
"I don't know what you're trying to accuse me of."
Seeing how adamant she was on pretending to be clueless, Dominic knew she would stay stubborn even if he persisted.
"Tomorrow's the wedding day," he said, and Isla sighed.
"You don't have to remind me," she hissed, and he turned away from her to walk away. It was clear from the way she was acting, the werewolf council had gotten to her.
It didn't matter though. He would get what he wanted either way.
"Did you really marry me because I have your essence inside of me?" Isla suddenly said, and Dominic stiffened.
He hadn't expected her to confront him directly about it. And now that she did, the thought of toying with her sent a surge of excitement pulsing through him.
Slowly, he turned to look at her. She watched him with pensive wide eyes as though he was a ticking bomb about to explode.
"What do you think?"
"You're going to use me to blackmail my father," she whispered.
He raised a brow. "Did the old fool tell you that?"
Her green eyes ignited with rage. "Old fool? You're not talking about my father, are you?"
"I'm not obligated to respect him."
"He won't let this slide. He's not going to let you use me," she hissed.
She didn't know. She had no idea of the truth. Of what her deadbeat father had done. It was better that way. If she knew, it would shatter her.
She was not his enemy, her father was.
"If you have nothing left to do, you should go to bed," he dismissed her and started to walk away.
But she wasn't finished.
"Do your people know who you really are?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Or have you been lying to them too?"
Dominic stopped, going completely still. The air around him shifted, and her words dug up emotions he'd long buried.