~Isla~
When he turned to me—his eyes catching the firelight, something ancient and aching in their glow—I knew there was no more room for doubt between us.
The air between us had changed. Not just filled with silence, but with a gravity I couldn’t name. It was as though the night itself was holding its breath, waiting for what we might become.
"Isla," he said softly, like he was afraid my name would break in his mouth. "If this is the last night I have before I become just... flesh and blood... let me spend it with you."
That voice, low and breaking with something more than longing—something sacred—unraveled everything inside me. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t even need.
It was the kind of love born in blood and fire and time.
I didn’t answer with words.
Instead, I stepped toward him slo
