Page 20 of Ocean's Whisper

"Leave me," he commanded.

His men nodded, recognizing the tone. Xavier squeezed his shoulder briefly before departing—a rare gesture of affection between alpha and beta. Damien bowed slightly, then followed.

Alone again, Nereus stared at the lightening horizon. His wolf paced restlessly within, drawn to the woman sleeping across the castle—the woman who held his future, his pack's future in her delicate human hands.

He prowled his study like a caged predator for several more minutes. His heart thundered in his chest, and he grunted in frustration. The wolf inside him would not be denied.

"Fine, you win," he muttered, running his hand along the intricate molding of the eastern bookcase until his fingers found the hidden latch.

The secret panel slid open without a sound—the work of craftsmen long dead who had built his castle centuries ago. Nereus had commissioned the network of tunnels when Viking blood still ran hot in his veins, when the need for escape routes was a matter of survival rather than convenience.

Now they served a different purpose. The dim light of wall-mounted sconces illuminated the narrow passage as he navigated the familiar route. His footsteps were silent despite his size—the predator in him had never forgotten how to hunt.

"This is ridiculous," he whispered to himself even as his feet carried him forward. "She's safe. She's asleep. She'll be there in the morning."

His wolf didn't care about reason. It needed to see their mate, to confirm her safety, and to breathe in her scent. All this time waiting, and now, his Luna slept under his roof. The pull was too irresistible.

The passageway curved toward the guest wing, and Nereus slowed his pace as he approached the hidden entrance to Isolde's room. He eased the panel open, slipping into her darkened chamber like a shadow.

His breath hitched at the sight of her. She lay sprawled across the four-poster bed, her blonde hair fanned out across the pillow like strands of gold. The moonlight streaming through the balcony windows bathed her in ethereal light, highlighting the curves of her body beneath the silk sheets. She had kicked off half the covers, one toned leg exposed to his hungry gaze.

He moved closer, drawn by an invisible thread that connected him to this woman. His Luna. The fact that she was human seemed inconsequential in this moment—she was perfect.

"I'll protect you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Her scent enveloped him—ocean spray and something uniquely hers that made his wolf howl silently in recognition. He could detect no fear and no distress in her sleep. Just exhaustion from the day's events.

Unable to help himself, he reached out, brushing a finger down the soft curve of her cheek. Her skin was warm silk beneath his touch. She stirred slightly, a small smile curving her lips, but didn't wake.

He bent down, inhaling deeply as he nuzzled against her hair. The intimate gesture sent a shock of possessiveness through him so intense, it nearly buckled his knees.

"Mine," his wolf growled internally while the man in him stepped back, forcing control.

The ocean outside crashed more forcefully against the shore, responding to his emotions. Nereus froze, suddenly aware that his own lack of control might trigger her dormant powers.

"Sleep well, little one," he murmured. "Tomorrow you'll learn what you truly are."

She shifted in her sleep, her lips parting slightly. "Ocean," she murmured, clearly dreaming.

Nereus smiled, a rare, genuine expression that transformed his usually stern features. Even in sleep, she was connected to her element. She would be magnificent once trained.

With tremendous effort, he backed away, slipping silently into the passage and closing the panel behind him. The separation was physical pain, but his rational mind knew it was necessary.

Back in the safety of the tunnels, Nereus leaned against the cool stone wall, his heart hammering. "Get a grip," he growled to himself. "You've commanded armies, ruled this territory, and negotiated treaties. You can handle one human woman."

But as he made his way to his own chambers, he knew that was a lie. Isolde was not just any woman. She was his destiny, his future—and possibly, if he couldn't guide her properly, his destruction.

In his own bed, Nereus tossed and turned, haunted by sea-blue eyes and golden hair. The scent of her lingered in his nostrils, teasing him with what he couldn't yet claim. How would he teach her? How would he convince a woman of science to believe in ancient magic?

"Tomorrow," he promised himself as sleep finally claimed him. "Tomorrow, I'll make her understand what we are to each other."

NINE

ISOLDE

Isolde awoke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows. For a moment, she floated in peaceful confusion, her mind blissfully blank. Then reality crashed over her like another tidal wave—the research station destroyed, the impossible rescue, and the even more impossible explanation.

She sat up in the luxurious four-poster bed, noticing more clearly the opulent surroundings. The room was easily three times the size of her bedroom on the houseboat, with high vaulted ceilings, ornate moldings, and furniture that belonged in a museum. Her eyes caught on a sleek smartphone resting on the nightstand that definitely wasn't hers.

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