Page 87 of Isla

Isla

Iinhaleddeeplybefore I spun around and gasped at seeing Harrison. My mouth opened wide for a moment before I asked, “What are you doing here?”

Harrison’s eyes widened with what appeared to be a flash of anger. My chest squeezed as I looked around him.

“They aren’t here,” he said, his voice a little less terse. “I needed to see you.”

And I didn’t know how I felt as the bond pulled and I cried out, trying to pivot away from him, pushing my key into the lock of the main door to my apartment. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, needed to keep the distance.

“Isla, stop. Please,” he said with a tone of carefulness to his voice. His hand touched my arm, and I felt trapped as his scent engulfed my senses.

I stood and stared at the rust-coloured bricks to my building, my hand still clutching the keys. I glanced once more at him as the rain got harder and pelted us.

I wondered whether to go inside and leave him or give him one last chance to explain his actions and that of his pack.

“You need this.” Harrison presented me with a zipped bag, which I took too quickly for someone who was trying to get away.

I slowly unzipped the bag, the smell of berries spilled out and I immersed my nose into the pile of luxuriant fabric of my bonded mate and inhaled deeply. My alpha.

“We thought you’d be struggling.” His hazel eyes were kind, his gaze so soft as he paused, plunging one hand in his pocket. “King isn’t well.”

I sucked back a sob as he handed me another bag. “This one is all of us, shirts, pillowcases. We tried to put different things in there for your nest. For you to remember our scents, and... want us in your life.”

“You tried to trick me,” I said, but took the bag and unzipped it, sticking my head inside and inhaling the contents like it was my last breath of air.

Harrison shook his head. “Can we go inside, please? I promise I won’t touch you. We have to talk.”

I folded my arms and held the bags tightly to my chest. Not wanting to lose the bags filled with scents that I had smelled before, but now I couldn’t live without now. I could barely comprehend what was happening to me.

My eyes met his and my heart clenched at the sight of his face, almost begging for me to hear his words.

“Can we go inside?” he asked once more.

“Okay,” I whispered, standing and staring at him. His brow lines furrowed, waiting. I looked away from his intense gaze and turned the key in the door's lock.

Inside, Harrison looked around my apartment and sighed. My eyes cut back to him as he stepped closer, taking my hand. Our touch was electric as it was each time. His other hand caught the side of my face, his fingers stroking softly at my skin.

Then he swept in, held me tight as I sobbed into his crisp shirt as he pressed a single kiss to my forehead. And I didn’t pull away or try to run. This time, my eyelids fluttered closed as I melted into his arms.

“You shouldn’t have run, Isla. This was never fake for me.”

My eyes misted, but I had to steel myself against these feelings flooding through me. I had to know the truth.

“That wasn’t the agreement?” I said through the thickness in my throat as an invisible pull from my chest made me want to lean into him. He pushed my hair away, and I smiled at my bloody, gorgeous husband.

“I wanted you the first moment I scented you, Isla. That I promise you.”

His eyes travelled down my body and I had a sudden urge for him to touch me in the same way his eyes were craving me.

“Chocolate,” I whispered. “Do I really smell of chocolate to you? Or...”

“I am not trying to fool you. There is no reason for me to trick you. I am thirty-four years old, and I’ve waited... desperately waited, for my omega. I was never interested in making do. Never interested in an omega, until your perfume floated into the hotel.” He fumbled, glanced at the floor, blew out a breath before he stared back at me. “You’re my omega, Isla. But more than that, you’re my wife. Isla, it’s more than you being an omega for me. I need you in my life because I love you.”

“Harrison,” I whispered as tears misted my eyes. “You love me.”

He told me he loved me. And it was the moment I realised I had got to be twenty-five years old and nobody had ever told me.

“I love you too,” I murmured.

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