Page 155 of A Warrior's Fate

The duvet of the hotel bed had only been pulled up to her waist. It whispered against her skin as she twisted her body, careful not to disturb the man beside her. She would’ve been devastated if she did. If only she had something other than her memory to capture the image before her.

There was a softness, a peacefulness, to Kai’s face as he slept that she’d never seen before, even in those moments she’d considered him at ease. It made her heart swell and an overwhelming sense of love flood her body.

Her mate.

Her mate.

For sure. Forever.

This picture was one she’d wake up to for the rest of her life.

Isla bit her bottom lip as if smiling would rouse him.

He was like a painting—the moon’s glow illuminating and darkening, hardening, the features of his face, the muscles of his exposed body in a way only the most skillful artist could. As if the Goddess was aiding her sister in her taunts.

You tried to deny this. Isla practically heard Fate cackle in whatever way a deity would. You’d pick a path other than the one I’d laid for you. Look at him.

The man who’d loved her enough to let her go. Saw her, understood her enough to let her do what she’d wanted. Who knew how important it was for her to become a warrior, if only for a fraction of time. Words whispered in prayer that day in the ash lily fields. He was exactly what she’d hoped and dreamed and wanted.

See.

Isla huffed through her nose.

Annoying bitch.

Isla scooted in closer, placing her hand on Kai’s chest, pressing her body against the heat of his.

As much as she wanted to stay in this room forever—this void, their void, where they could be safe—they had to return to the world out there.

Kai should’ve gone back to the hall hours ago, judging by the darkness outside. He had to deal with the rogues. With the challenge.

And Isla had to face her family. Had to tell them she’d never be home again—if she could even call Io home anymore.

She needed to officially resign from the warriors…to go through, she imagined, some process to become luna, and then prove herself worthy to the people of Deimos, who’d likely want nothing to do with her. And how could she forget the murderer and the bak and the messages and the marker and—

Not now.

Maybe they could remain in this chasm for a few more minutes.

Kai stirred, breath catching before it settled. His arm moved from around her back to tug her even closer, and Isla became so comfortable that she could’ve fallen asleep again.

She wouldn’t look up at him as she absently traced the tattoo over his chest, even as Kai lifted his other arm to run a hand over his face and push the hair from his eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

Goddess above—his voice.

Lazy and deep and gravelly with sleep. Forget the endearment.

Isla squeezed her legs together, faintly remembering every wicked thing he’d done and said to her only hours before.

She cleared her throat. “It’s actually quite late in the evening,” she said, stopping her ministrations to lift her eyes to his. “We fell asleep.”

The corner of Kai’s mouth lifted as he stretched himself out on the mattress. Isla wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose—so the blankets would slide dangerously low on his hips—or if he’d placed his hand behind his head, only to give his muscles an opportunity to flex.

His voice was still dizzyingly alluring as he prided, “I wonder why.”

Isla’s toes curled as the recollections hit her full force.

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