He didn't turn immediately. Let her watch. Let her see exactly what kind of male fate had bound her to.
He pushed his damp hair back from his forehead, standing to his full height as the simulation ended. Sweat glistened on his shoulders and chest, highlighting centuries of disciplined training. The wooden staff hung loosely from one hand as he finally turned, meeting her gaze across the room.
The hunger in her eyes was unmistakable, mirroring what his wolf had recognized from the first moment—they belonged to each other. Her scent shifted subtly, the sweet tang of arousal impossible for his heightened senses to miss.
Still, he remained where he stood, refusing to approach her first. She had questioned his intentions. Let her come to him.
He reactivated the simulation without breaking eye contact. Three new opponents materialized, and he engaged them with deliberate, powerful movements. The staff became an extension of his body, weaving patterns in the air as he danced between attackers.
"Is this supposed to impress me?" Her voice floated across the room, but the uptick in her pulse gave her away.
He didn’t break his stride, taking out another holographic warrior with a decisive blow. His body moved with fluid grace, each strike demonstrating control and power.
The last opponent fell, and Nereus stood victorious. He knew exactly how he looked—centuries of female attention had taught him the effect of his physical form. But never had he cared about impressing someone like he did now.
He turned and marched from the combat facility, his muscles still burning from exertion. The cool air hit his bare chest as he stepped outside and strode down the path behind his castle, not bothering to grab a shirt on his way out. He sensed her behind him—her scent carried on the breeze, that intoxicating blend of saltwater and citrus that made his wolf pace restlessly beneath his skin.
He didn't slow down. Didn't acknowledge her presence. His pride wouldn't allow it quite yet.
The well-worn path beneath his feet had been traveled by his ancestors for generations, cutting straight through the dense woods that separated his castle from their true domain. As the trees thinned and the sound of waves grew louder, Nereus felt his tension begin to ebb. The ocean had always been his sanctuary.
Without hesitation, he shed his remaining clothing at the edge of the sand, leaving himself completely bare. The breeze caressed his naked form, and he welcomed it, striding purposefully into the welcoming embrace of the water. His body sliced through the cool surf with practiced ease, each powerful stroke carrying him deeper until the water lapped at his chest.
Only then did he turn.
She stood frozen at the shoreline, her blonde hair floating around her face, her eyes fixed on the rolling waves with unmistakable apprehension. Something was wrong. His Luna,who lived on water and dedicated her life to studying it, looked at the ocean as if it might attack her.
"What's wrong?" he called, his voice carrying across the water.
The wind carried her sigh to him. "I went to the research station site. They wouldn't let me in."
He watched her face harden with the memory.
"I got angry. The ocean reacted again—waves started building." She hugged herself, looking out at the horizon. "It's ironic. I always thought I had this special connection with the water. Now it turns against me like some kind of weapon. It hates me."
He shook his head, droplets of water flying from his dark hair. "That's not true. The ocean doesn't hate you, Isolde. It responds to you because it recognizes what you are."
"And what am I exactly?"
"My Luna. The ocean's daughter." He spread his arms wide, encompassing the vastness around them. "Think about it. You dedicated your career to marine biology. You chose to live on a houseboat. The water has always been a part of you. Did you ever wonder why you felt such a pull toward it?"
Her eyes widened slightly, and he knew his words were finding their mark.
"The ocean isn't turning against you, Isolde. It's answering you now. For your entire life, it's been trying to tell you who you truly are. You just didn't understand the message." He lowered his voice, letting the authority of centuries color his tone. "But you can learn. If you want to."
Something shifted in her expression—acceptance mixed with curiosity. Without breaking eye contact, Isolde reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Her fingers worked at the clasp of her bra, then her jeans and panties, until she stood gloriously naked on the shore.
He drew a sharp breath. His Luna was magnificent. Her curves caught the late morning light, her golden skin glowing against the backdrop of sand and sky. Her full breasts swayed gently as she took her first tentative steps into the surf, and his mouth went dry at the sight of her rounded hips and the soft swell of her ass.
His wolf howled with approval. This was their mate—all curves and strength and beauty.
Slowly, she waded deeper, her eyes never leaving his as the water rose to her thighs, then her waist. He remained perfectly still, fighting every instinct that demanded he claim her, mark her, and make her undeniably his. The water lapped at her breasts, and his hands fisted beneath the surface.
Not yet.
When she was finally before him, water swirling between their naked bodies, he could hear both their heartbeats racing in perfect synchrony. The ocean seemed to hold its breath, waves gentling around them as if acknowledging the power of the moment.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. None were needed. The water connected them more intimately than any touch could have, currents swirling between them like invisible caresses. Her blonde hair floated like seaweed around her shoulders, and the ocean breeze brushed across her skin, causing goose bumps to rise on her exposed flesh. His wolf urged him to close the distance between them and claim what was rightfully his.