Page 7 of Nightmare Island

“What?” he says menacingly, each word precise and terrifying. “What did you call me?”

Ishake my head violently, forcing the memory away. My hands are shaking, and I realize I’ve stopped in front of a huge palm tree.

Breathe, Hel. Just breathe.

The asshole is dead, and you’re not there anymore. You’re here, on this island, where the only thing trying to kill you is nature itself.

I force my legs to move again, putting one foot in front of the other. Each step takes me further from that memory, from the prison Jarl made of a house that never felt like home. Each step is a victory, small but mine.

“All right, island,” I say, injecting as much bravado into my voice as I can muster. “Show me what you’ve got. Can’t be worse than what I’ve already survived.”

As I continue up the slope, I silently pray I haven’t just jinxed myself.

Finally, the trees thin out, and I’m on open ground, ascending directly to what I can now make out is a mountain. I pause, wiping rain from my eyes, and just... stare.

Even in the midst of the storm, the island is breathtaking and overwhelming. In the distance, a waterfall thunders down a cliff face, its spray fusing with the rain.

“Wow,” I breathe. “If this is how I’m being punished for not feeling remorse for my husband’s death, sign me up for more.”

Yet the beauty doesn’t quite quell the fear gnawing at my insides. I’m alone. Lost. As the adrenaline from the crash fades, the reality of my situation starts to sink in. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly colder, hoping those men who took me from Bariloche Sector might return to save me.

“Get it together, Hel,” I whisper. “Find shelter first. Freak out later.”

Scanning the slopes, I look for a cave or overhang but I’m too far. Somewhere dry where I can catch my breath and figure out my next move. I refuse to die here, not after everything I’ve been through.

I think of my father, of the cold look in his eyes as he wed me to our enemy—Jarl from the Balor Pack.

“It’s for the greater good of our Ulv Pack,” Father had said.

Greater good.The words echo in my mind, bitter and mocking. What about my good? What about my life, my dreams, my future? But those things didn’t matter. Not to him. Not when there was a war to be stopped.

I remember the day he told me, his gaze never quite meeting mine. “You’ll marry Jarl of the Balor Pack. It will end the bloodshed.”

At that moment, I realized I had never been a daughter to him—just a bargaining chip to be played when the stakes were high enough.

And Jarl? The monster I was sold to? He sent his younger brother, Nikos, to serve my family. “A fair exchange,” they all said, nodding and smiling as if they hadn’t just shattered my world into a million pieces.

Fair.There’s nothing fair about being ripped from everything I’ve ever known and handed over to a man oldenough to be my father, a man with cruelty in his eyes and violence in his touch.

Rage burns in my chest, hot and fierce. Fuck them. Fuck all of them. My father, who saw me as nothing more than a means to an end. Jarl, who took sadistic pleasure in breaking me down day after day. The elders of both packs, who nodded and smiled and called it peace while I paid the price in blood and tears.

I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms. The pain helps, gives me something to focus on besides the ugly memories.

Four years of fear and agony, of gritting my teeth and surviving day by day. I’ve come too far to let a little thing like a plane crash and a deserted island take me out. I’m finally free of him.

With that, I continue my trek, searching for any sign of shelter. The rain continues to pour, and thunder rumbles overhead.

The rain beats down relentlessly, soaking me to the bone. Shelter. I need shelter. The mountains loom ahead, promising the possibility of caves. It’s my best bet—there’s no way I’m building a palm leaf hut in this downpour.

A bird’s harsh cry cuts through the storm, making me glance up.

That’s when I see him.

A man is standing at the edge of the tree line, maybe two hundred yards away. He’s holding a burning torch in one hand, revealing him easily. And yet he’s staring right at me as if he can see in the darkness. I can make out his imposing figure—dark pants, no shirt, and muscles. So. Many. Muscles.

Oh, fuck.So, I’m not alone after all. This really sucks.

My heart rate kicks up a notch. In this fucked up world, where most humans died out after the virus spread across the globe and shifters took control, females—especially Omegaslike me—became in short supply. We’re like honey to bees for Alphas. And I’ve had my fair share of that crap.

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