Page 4 of A Warrior's Fate

Isla approached the terrace’s stone railing and placed her hands on it as she drank in the lunar aura, breathing deeply and absorbing its glow. The lumerosi markings etched into the skin of her shoulder throbbed. The intricate swirls and symbols of black ink, bestowed upon her once she’d mastered her shift, took on their signature iridescence as she teetered on the edge of the mundane and mythical. For a moment, she considered ripping off her gown, shifting, and hauling through the trees.

No one would know she was gone, right?

“Beautiful.”

Isla’s markings flared, her eyes following in their glow as she spun around to face who had snuck up on her.

But then the furious light dwindled to nothing as she froze, disarmed by one of the most striking men she’d ever seen.

CHAPTER 2

When first confronted by something—or someone—she knew nothing about, Isla, historically, was a “claw first, ask questions later” kind of she-wolf. An automatic fight in the fight-or-flight dichotomy. The reaction had both saved her life and gotten her in deep trouble in the past. The latter more so than the former.

That called for training and with it, she eventually learned to hold off on the snap actions, and instead, use her senses first to quickly and efficiently run down the mental checklist, evaluate the threat, then strike if needed.

She tried to call upon the teachings now, but the only sense that was working was her sight.

And then…there was also something deeper.

Isla felt a tug at what seemed like the core of her being in a way she’d only experienced once—just a few moments ago at the bar. Was this it? The day she’d once dreamed of and now dreaded?

No. This wasn’t quite how that mystical, magical fated attraction felt, at least, in the way she imagined it would from the descriptions she’d heard.

“It’s like a light just shines and the heavens open and…”

“It’s a…ping!”

“Suddenly, the world just made sense.”

“I saw her, and I just knew.”

No. This definitely wasn’t any of that. That sounded romantic, wistful, and dreamy, even. This was just…carnal.

It consumed her like wildfire, spreading through her branches of veins and torching the hills and valleys of her skin. It budded fantasies like roses, each one unique, but the one most intoxicating was the vision of him reaching for her, pressing her against the banister, and lifting her dress to take her right then and there under the lunar glow. No words. No time for pleasantries.

She blinked as she descended back to some form of reality, trying to figure out, by the Goddess, what had just come over her. Had it really been that long since she’d been taken to bed?

“Excuse me?”

“The moon?” The stranger stepped closer, gesturing upwards, and Isla took him in. Handsome. Very handsome. With his dark hair pushed back from his face and his eyes visions of storm clouds, reflecting in the moonlight. “Beautiful.”

Her tongue felt heavy as she spared the goddess a glance. “Yes, it is.”

The stranger moved forward until he was beside her at the railing and leaned against the stone. He turned to face her. “I’m assuming you’re here for the Warrior’s Feast? For the Hunt?”

Isla wouldn’t bother pointing out his incorrect labeling of the night’s gathering. “Yes.”

He looked out at the silent forest before them. “Are you from Callisto?”

“No…” Isla breathed, trying to regain her sense. There was no reason to feel flustered. He was just a very attractive man who came upon her on a night when her libido was at a peak. “Io.”

The stranger smiled, and even though she didn’t know him, the grin seemed out of place on his face.

Her brows furrowed. “What?”

“That was my original assumption,” he said, his features shifting into a faint smirk. “Immediately ready to fight at the slightest sound. Probably try to rip my head off with your teeth.” He nodded his head to the side. “But then…”

“But…then?”

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