CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Betrayers of the clan were never buried on their sacred ground, nor were they burned and their ashes kept in their treasure room. Betrayers were tossed in the sea wearing the clothes they had on their back when they died, to be eaten by sharks or washed away to shore, rotting forever.
That was tradition.
And Isabella had to accept tradition, no matter how painful it was.
Isaac needed her support, and so she did her best to silently support her older brother as they did the tossing themselves, watching as Jason’s and Clay’s body floated for a second on the sea before being weighed down by the violent waves. Night darkened even more as clouds rolled over and rain poured without warning, washing away the scents of their fight and the blood that remained on them.
Her hand went to Isaac’s arm, but he neither acknowledged it nor pushed her away. So she held on, gripping tight, as the ship took them back to shore where Dylan and the others were waiting.
Isaac had ignored Dylan for the rest of the night, but he stopped to bark a short statement that the offer for them to stay and rest still stood. Dylan nodded quietly and filed Simon and Robin in. This time, only one guard came with them—a testament to how her older brother thought of the situation now. His face was as placid as ever, almost like nothing major happened. But she knew him well enough.
She knew that façade would crack in time, despite the toughness that he generally exuded.
When they finally got in the cave, Isaac looked at her once.
“Will you be okay?”
Isabella forced herself to nod back. “Yes.”
Either she was good at hiding her real emotions, or Isaac was just too distracted. He accepted her answer at face value and went back out, shifting into his panther form before disappearing into the woods. When something was troubling Isaac, that was what he did—shut off the world until he could handle it again.
And so Isabella must do what she usually did, too.
She went to her own room, not daring to glance at Dylan for fear that he was going to see right through her. Once inside, she stripped off all her clothes and entered the shower, turning it on. Water cascaded down her naked body, warm—but it never really erased the coldness that was inside her, threatening to come out.
She scrubbed herself clean, ignoring the sting and only moving her hands faster. When she was squeaky clean, she stepped out wrapped in a towel and dripped all over the floor, sitting on the bed for a few minutes and just staring at the puddle she made.
Slowly, her shoulders started to shake. But no tears came.
A knock sounded on her door, soft but firm. She stood up and went to answer it, not entirely surprised to see Dylan standing there. His brown eyes widened when he saw her state of dress, and she was reminded of the wolf that fought alongside them—the wolf that turned her on more than it should. She saw desire flare in his eyes before he banked it down, his expression now somber as he took her in.
“I’m sorry. Perhaps I should have come at a different time,” he said.
His blond hair was messed, and there were dark circles under his eyes—a far cry from the always cool and always composed man she’d gotten acquainted with. There was a slash just at the corner of his mouth, and he had a shadow of a beard growing on his well-defined jaw.
Desire rose inside her, intense and unreasonable. Ironically, the sight of him without his picture perfect control and charming façade only served to make her like him more. This was the man underneath the leader, and she wanted to get to know him more. Oh, she knew him—knew he was bossy and polite, and had double the compassion underneath the surface. But maybe she wanted to know the man…wanted to taste him.
And maybe she just wanted him inside her.
She took a step forward, licking her lower lip. “Thank you for helping us out.”
His gaze stayed on her face, despite a muscle on his jaw twitching. “You’re welcome. You should get some sleep.”
“I don’t want sleep,” she whispered softly.
“You don’t want this, either,” he said.
She stood on tiptoe and placed her hands on his shoulders until their mouths were level with each other.
“Yes, I do,” was all she whispered back before she closed the distance between them.
It was probably her downfall that she couldn’t forget one pretend kiss, where he showed her that passion could simmer and burst into fire in all but an instant. So she sought out to capture and recreate it, pulling by the lapels of his shirt as she opened her mouth and herself to him completely.
There was a second when he stilled against her, as if shocked. Then she felt a warm arm band around her waist and lift her up in a singular movement before he was carrying her inside the room and shutting the door with a definite click.
Dylan kissed her back, his tongue sliding in and seeking hers in an intimate move that left her breathless. Whatever she sought to recreate was gone as he replaced it with something different altogether—a kiss that was hotter, brighter and so much more than she’d ever felt before.
Her back felt the press of the wall, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself to the hot, hard part of him that was throbbing against her stomach. He smelled like fresh water and grass, along with another scent that was pure, unapologetic male. She steeped herself in his scent and moaned in his mouth when he lifted her higher and drove his covered erection against her very core, which jolted with such intense pleasure. She pressed back, reveling in the tingles that spread up in her and the ball of heat that formed in her belly.
No words were needed. They both wanted it raw and rough, and no other way would do. She nipped at his bottom lip hard, and he retaliated by tearing at her towel and tossing it on the floor. Then he filled his hands with her breasts, thumbing the nipples expertly, his calloused fingers bringing her pinprick after pinprick of pleasure.
His mouth latched on her throat and sucked as his other hand trailed down and touched the part of her that was throbbing the most for him. He slid one finger in, hooked it into a curve.
“So wet,” he groaned, his voice rough and no longer polished. She clutched at his hair in response and moved her hips in time with the rhythm of his finger until he slid another one in.
Then he was thrusting and twisting, at the same time his lips came down to cover one puckered nipple.
It had to be a sin to experience this much pleasure. But Isabella found she didn’t care, only wanting what he was giving her. She urged him on and removed his shirt, letting her hands run all over skin that was hot and hard. But when she tried to touch his cock and wrap her hands around it, he stopped her and only thrust his fingers deeper until her thoughts scattered and her mind went blank.
The climax that followed was vicious and unexpected, shattering the ball of heat and spreading it all over. She let out a silent scream, and he swallowed it in another kiss that was verging on desperation this time.
When she came down from her high, she found his intense brown eyes focused on her, watching. Waiting.
“I couldn’t kill Jason,” Isabella confessed.
Dylan nodded, steadily carrying her to bed and sitting with her on his lap.
“When it came down to deciding, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him,” she said. The words were tumbling out now. “I froze. I couldn’t. And I ended up almost killing Isaac in the process.”
“Shhh.”
“It hurts. It hurts so much.”
And then the tears spilled out. She blinked and blinked, but they kept coming out. Instead of telling her to stop, Dylan let her cry, his arms wrapping around her and giving her a blanket of comfort to lean on.
Isabella placed her head on his chest and let the storm come.