Chapter Five
864 Words
Liam’s POV
“She’s mine,” I growled, shoving to my feet.
The force of my own voice vibrated through my chest, but Kieran barely reacted. He just sighed, like this was nothing more than a mild inconvenience to him. Like I wasn’t standing here, ready to rip his throat out.
Then, his silver gaze flicked lazily to Isla.
“Then let’s ask her.”
My entire body went rigid.
His voice was smooth, almost amused. Like he already knew the answer. Like he had already won.
He took a slow step toward her, eyes gleaming under the moonlight.
“Well, little wolf?” His tone softened, turning into something dangerous. A taunt. A challenge. “Will you stay with me? Or run back to the mate who tossed you aside?”
My stomach twisted into knots.
No. No, she wouldn’t choose him.
I could still feel the heat of her body against mine from when she’d crashed into me. The way her hands had clutched at my arms. The way her breath had shuddered when she said my name.
That meant something. It had to mean something.
I forced my breathing to slow, to stay in control. But I could feel it—the slow, creeping tendrils of panic.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless, furious.
She wouldn’t choose him. She wouldn’t.
I turned to her, waiting. Watching.
She wasn’t looking at me.
Isla’s body was tense, shoulders rising and falling too fast. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her torn dress.
She looked at Kieran.
Then at me.
Something flickered in her eyes—something I couldn’t quite place.
Her lips parted.
And then she whispered—
“I don’t know.”
The world stopped.
For a moment, I didn’t feel the cold night air. Didn’t hear the distant howls or the crackling of the dying bonfire.
I felt nothing.
Like my own body had betrayed me, refusing to process the words she had just spoken.
I must’ve heard wrong.
I had to have heard wrong.
Kieran hummed, tilting his head. His smirk widened, just slightly.
“Hm. Interesting.”
I barely heard him.
Because Isla wasn’t taking it back.
She wasn’t saying my name, wasn’t reaching for me.
She wasn’t running toward me.
She was standing there. Silent.
Not choosing me.
My fists clenched so hard my nails dug into my palms. A bitter taste filled my mouth.
“You don’t know?” My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.
She flinched. Her hands twisted together like she wanted to hold onto something—anything.
“I—” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “I don’t—”
She didn’t finish.
I took a step toward her, desperate, heart slamming against my ribs. “Isla, you can’t be serious. This is him we’re talking about. The same bastard who stole you away, who—”
“Stole?” Kieran drawled, cutting me off. “Funny. I don’t recall her fighting me off when I marked her.”
A sharp growl ripped from my throat. My vision blurred at the edges.
“Shut the hell up,” I snapped.
He smirked, eyes glinting. “Hit a nerve, did I?”
I took another step forward, muscles locking, my wolf pressing against my skin. Every instinct in my body told me to strike. To tear him apart.
But Isla—
She turned, suddenly, stepping between us.
“Stop.” Her voice was shaky, uneven. Her eyes darted between me and Kieran, desperate. “Just stop.”
I stared at her, breathless, stunned.
Why was she stopping me?
Why wasn’t she choosing me?
My chest tightened, suffocating, as she turned away.
Back to him.
Kieran exhaled through his nose, as if this whole thing was exhausting him. “Looks like she doesn’t want you fighting her battles, golden boy.”
I almost lunged at him right then.
But Isla—
She was still between us.
Still standing closer to him than to me.
Her hands were trembling, but she wasn’t moving.
And she wasn’t coming back to me.
Kieran sighed dramatically. “As entertaining as this is, I have a camp to get back to. So, what’s it going to be, little wolf?”
My jaw locked.
I hated him.
I hated the way he spoke to her, the way he was so damn calm, so sure of himself.
I hated that she still hadn’t moved.
I wanted to shake her, to remind her who she was, who we were.
Instead, I gritted my teeth.
“You don’t have to stay with him.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “You don’t.”
She looked at me again.
And I saw it.
The uncertainty.
The war in her head.
She was thinking about it.
She was considering it.
Like she actually believed staying with Kieran was an option.
My hands curled into fists again.
Kieran chuckled. “Face it, Liam. She’s not running to you.”
I snapped my head toward him, snarling, but he only shrugged.
He knew.
He knew.
And he was right.
Because Isla wasn’t moving.
And she still hadn’t chosen me.
- Writer
