The Moonlight pack was out of it that day. Snow on the trees, a softening of the world which gave all a gentle glow. But inside, Isolde was anything but calm. Justice came quick and sure. The spy which had put the pack in danger was gone, and the older wolves gave her space, watching with a careful concern. They knew she held a power which they didn't easily challenge.
Peace did not sit easy with Isolde. Every night brought dreams that were not her own. She woke to a scream many times, drenched and shivering, her heart a wild thing. Her wolf was out of sorts also, howling out its distress in the silent of her mind.
Anger, great guilt, and a strange yearning. It bothered her. Vampires don't feel, don't crave, don't care. But there was Leslie, her emotions as complex as his own, open because they were tied.
Logically she thought it didn't happen. Just a dream, she told herself. A wolf's response. That's all. But within, the wolf smiled softy,退 into the back of her mind. It liked the proximity, this secret for which they did not ask.
She dived into her duties. To Duke Jordan she went, to the patrols which were her duty, to training the young wolves anything to prove her loyalty to the Moonlight Pack, her dedication to protect her own. Yet the bond remained, constant and strong.
It began that way. A random thought of him, a flutter of her pulse as she pictured Leslie in his palace. She would shake her head, reprimanding herself. He's the enemy; my wife's killer.
But the bond ignored reason.
One evening as the day turned to night and she was walking in the woods the wind played with her hair; at that moment she felt a pull, a definite something not of the body but of that strange space between them. She scanned the shadows with her green eyes. For a beat she thought she felt him, not with her ears but in her mind.
Isolde…
A barely audible sound that still hit her core, paws at her feelings, her heart's beat. She shook head, tried to push it away. "This is not happening. You're over thinking!
But they played in his mind. His thoughts would flash through of his doings, his struggles, the weight of his past. The solitude of immortality of his careful life. Gradually, reluctantly, she began to see him not as her husband's killer, not as a vampire, but as a man with wants, burdens, vulnerabilities.
The sensation made her nervous, jumpy.
But her inner beast agreed, we are meant to be. You can't fight it.
She abhorred that which drew her to him, that which made her know him, feel for him beyond what was due, beyond retribution. Fortresses of loss and faith protected her heart, a refuge which she had created, yet with each beat her defenses which we had spent years to construct fell.
Days went by into weeks. In everything she did, in every meeting she had, with each of her pack members he was there. She could feel him, sense him, a presence just beyond what the eye sees. He spoke to her in whispers, not orders but in thoughts that tickled at the edges of her consciousness and thus influenced her decisions.
It was thrilling. It was terrifying.
At first when she did reach out a shiver ran through her. In her room by herself she explored the edge of what was between them. Leslie's presence was in her mind soft, inquisitive, a note of what may have been kind which shook her out of her doze.
She flinched, heart racing. I will not allow that to happen. I won't. In her core, her inner wolf growled, a live thing that would not be dismissed.
It was hard to ignore the connection. In that private moments when she saw him out of the corner of her eye standing still in his great home, watching over, protecting. She began to plan for him, to think through the what if's of danger that may come his way as if what he does is tied to what she does.
Leslie at the edge of his land by himself, blind to the danger that approaches.
They do not go at each other any more. By fate, by power, by what is in our blood we are tied and now also by what we come to understand.
Her eyes which were of a green hue found out his which were blue. At the time being it was known by her the truth. What had been a struggle between them was transformed into something else. Something dangerous and also without return.
Her wolf within her at ease, Destiny has spoken.
Is at the beginning of Isolde's story with Leslie what we see and from that out forward everything in her life, her pack, her world, would change.een killed, and the older members were careful and respectful, staying away from her. They watched her with caution, knowing that she had the power to do things that they could not easily question.
But even though her house was quiet, Isolde's inner self was not calm. She had dreams she could not understand every night, dreams that did not feel like they were just hers. She would wake up screaming more than once, covered in sweat, her body shaking, and her heart beating fast. Her wolf felt restless and confused, howling without making a sound because it was upset.
And then there was him, Leslie. She kept thinking about him, not really there but in her thoughts. She saw the vampire king's world through his eyes, which was cold, precise, and incredibly organized. She felt small parts of what he was feeling: quick bursts of anger, strong feelings of guilt, and hints of wanting something more. It scared her. Vampires should not have feelings, should not want things, or care about things. But here was Leslie, with complicated feelings like her own. Somehow, she could feel them too because of the bond between them.
Isolde tried to be logical and tell herself that it was not possible. This is not a real connection. This is just a dream. It's your wolf reacting. It's nothing else. But the wolf inside her laughed softly, relaxed at the edge of her mind. It liked being close and the connection that had been made against her will, which was now growing in secret.
She kept busy with her responsibilities. She had meetings with Duke Jordan, went on patrols, and trained the younger wolves, reminding herself that she was loyal to the Moonlight Pack. She had to protect her people. But no matter how hard she tried, the connection stayed strong, insistent, and steady.
It started slowly. She would suddenly think of him, and seeing Leslie walking through his palace would make her heart beat fast for no clear reason. She would shake her head, telling herself not to do that. He is our enemy. He is the one who killed my husband.
But the connection did not care about reason.
One evening, she walked in the forest when it was almost dark, letting the wind blow through her hair. Then she felt something, a small, obvious pull. It was not physical, not in the world of sight or sound, but in the strange, connected space between them. Her green eyes looked around at the shadows, and for a moment, she thought she heard him, not with her ears, but in her mind.
Isolde…
It was just a whisper, but her wolf reacted strongly to the sound, claws digging into her instincts, and her heart beating quickly and unevenly. She shook her head, trying to ignore it. This is not possible. You are just imagining it.
But the images kept coming back. Little pieces of his thoughts came to her every day. She got a peek at what he was planning, what he was figuring out, and how the past weighed heavily on him. She saw how lonely it was to live forever and how carefully he had to act. Slowly, without meaning to, she started to get him, not as the person who killed her partner, not as a vampire, but as someone who had wants, worries, and weaknesses.
It made her uneasy. It scared her.
But her inner wolf liked it, making soft noises in her chest. We are meant to be. You can't change it. You two belong together.
She hated that she was drawn to him, that she understood him, and that she felt something more than just duty or revenge. She had made walls of sadness and loyalty, like a fort around her heart, but every beat of her heart broke them down, ruining the protection she had spent years building.
Days turned into weeks. Every time she went out, every meeting, every moment with her group was affected by knowing he was there. She could feel him, sense him, like he was close by even when he was far away. Small thoughts came into her head, not mean or forceful, but quick urges, like whispers guiding her choices in ways she didn't understand.
It was exciting. It was scary.
The first time she let herself try to reach him, she felt a shiver go through her. In her private room, she touched the edge of their connection. Leslie's mind touched hers, not in a rough way, but with a gentle awareness that made her gasp. His interest, his uncertainty, and a little bit of what felt like kindness reached her, and it shocked her into realizing something.
She moved away fast, her heart pounding. I can't let this happen. I won't. Her inner wolf made a deep, strong noise, curled up in her chest like something alive and warm that wouldn't be ignored.
It became impossible to pretend the connection wasn't there. She smiled without meaning to when she saw quick, unexplained images of him, standing quietly in his palace, watching, protecting. She started making plans and thinking about dangers he might face, as if she was connected to his life, his actions, his existence.
Then came the night of the snowstorm. She was out when the wind changed, becoming harsh and strong. Her group was safe, but she felt the pull, the connection drawing her to him. Her green eyes got big, and she gasped as she saw a clear image of him in her mind: at the edge of his land, alone, not knowing about the danger coming toward him.
Leslie was already in motion—fast, on point, totally dialed in. The trouble showed up out of nowhere, but he moved like he'd been expecting it. A split second later, Isolde was right there with him, her gut kicking in. They flowed together like they were two sides of the same storm, ghosts dancing in the snow. He'd block, she'd strike back; she'd push, he'd have her back. No talking, no plans needed. They just got each other's moves.
When the dust settled, the world seemed to sigh. Snow floated down from the trees, catching the weak sunlight. Their breaths puffed out like little white clouds in the cold. Isolde froze, letting her heart calm down. Leslie stood up straight, brushed the ice off his gloves, and for a second, they just stood there.
That's when she felt it—really felt it—for the first time.
They weren't enemies anymore.
She looked at him, and his blue eyes locked with hers. They stayed steady, which bugged her way more than the fight did. Something unspoken went back and forth between them, something old and set in stone. That pull she used to blow off, the one that ticked her off and made her doubt herself, had shifted. It had become something heavier, deeper, more of a trigger.
Her wolf was calm and sure, no longer restless or torn. A warm feeling popped up inside her, like her instincts had given in and accepted something she was afraid to even think about.
Fate had picked its side.
But fate's timing sucked, as usual.
Isolde took a breath, feeling the weight of the moment land on her like a fresh snowfall. She had no clue where this thing with Leslie was going. She didn't know what it meant for what she had to do, her duties, or the shaky peace in her pack. All she knew was that things had flipped upside down for good.
Her story with Leslie wasn't done.
It was just getting started.
And nothing—not a single thing—about her life or her world would ever be the same.
he first time: they were not enemies anymore. They were connected, because of destiny, strength, a natural connection, and now, without a doubt, because they understood each other.
Her green eyes looked into his blue ones, and in that moment, she realized the truth. The pull she once disliked had turned into something bigger. Something risky. Something that could not be undone.
Her wolf was happy, settling inside her with confidence. Destiny has made its choice. But destiny's timing is awful.
Isolde understood then that her story with
Leslie was just starting, and nothing about her life, her group, or her world would ever be the same again.