Chapter 16 Nico
900 Words
She thinks I’m not fighting this.She’s wrong.I just don’t fight the same way she does. She always has.I watch her from a few steps behind, the night air moving around us, quiet but not enough to cut through the tension sitting between us. She’s gripping the balcony railing like it’s the only thing keeping her in place.
Like if she lets go. She’ll run.
Again.
“Inside,” I say.
Isla frowns. “What—”
“Now.”
Something in my tone cuts through whatever she was about to say.
She moves.
I follow, shutting the balcony door behind us just as footsteps echo from the hall.
Steady.
Unhurried.
The door opens without a knock.
My father steps in first.
My mother follows.
And the second she sees Isla—
Her expression softens.
“Isla,” my mother says quietly.
Isla freezes.
Her shoulders go tight.
“I didn’t come back on purpose,” she says quickly, like she needs to get it out before anything else happens.
My father’s gaze shifts to me.
Then to her.
Taking everything in.
“Why isn’t she marked?” he asks.
Straight to the point.
Always.
My shoulders tense.
“She isn't ready,” I say.
Flat.
Controlled.
“He’s forcing me to stay,” Isla cuts in immediately.
My head turns sharply toward her.
“I tried to reject him,” she continues, her voice tightening, frustration bleeding through. “He won’t let me go.”
“That’s not what this is,” I say.
“Then what is it?” she snaps back.
Her eyes lock onto mine, anger finally breaking through everything else she’s been holding back.
“You hate me,” she says. “So you’re keeping me here to punish me.”
My jaw tightens.
“No,” I say, my voice lower now. “I’m keeping you here because you don’t get to run from this again.”
Her expression sharpens instantly.
“I didn’t run—”
“You left,” I cut in.
The words land harder than I intend.
“You made your choice and disappeared.”
Her eyes flash.
“I was seventeen, Nico.”
“And.. I stayed,” I fire back.
The control slips just enough to let it through.
“I was there when your father died. I didn’t leave you to deal with that alone.”
Silence hits.
Heavy.
Sharp.
“And when Jax died?” I continue, quieter now, but worse for it. “You weren’t there.”
Her breath catches slightly.
Just for a second.
Then anger takes over.
“f**k you, Nico,” she snaps. “If you cared so much, you should have come and found me.”
My gaze locks onto hers.
Hard.
Unmoving.
Because that—
That hits somewhere I don’t let anything touch.
The room goes tight.
Too tight.
“Enough.”
My mother’s voice cuts through everything.
Firm.
Calm.
Controlled.
She steps forward, placing herself just slightly between us.
Not blocking.
Just… redirecting.
“You’re both reacting,” she says, her gaze moving between us. “And neither of you are thinking clearly.”
Neither of us respond.
Because she’s not wrong.
That doesn’t mean I’m backing down.
My father’s attention shifts back to me.
“You found your mate,” he says. “And you haven’t marked her.”
“She’s not ready,” I answer.
Immediate.
Final.
“She’ll run again.”
My father’s expression hardens slightly.
“That’s not how this works.”
“It is with her,” I say.
“I didn’t know Jax would die,” she says, quieter now—but no less intense. “I knew my mother and grandmother would.”
That lands.
Different than before.
My mother steps closer to her.
“She was a child,” she says, her voice softening slightly, but not losing its strength. “Seventeen. An omega. With rogue wolves threatening her because of her connection to this family.”
Silence settles again.
Heavier this time.
“She made the only choice she thought she had,” my mother continues. “That doesn’t make her your enemy.”
It doesn’t erase anything either.
My father exhales slowly.
“The pack is already talking,” he says. “They always do.”
Of course they do.
“They know she’s here,” he continues. “They know what she is to you.”
My attention sharpens slightly.
“And they know you haven’t marked her.”
My mother’s gaze returns to Isla.
“You’ll stay,” she says. “And I’ll teach you what you need to know.”
Isla stiffens immediately.
“I’m not—”
“You don’t get to decide that yet,” I cut in.
Her head snaps toward me again.
Anger.
Frustration.
Something deeper under it.
She’s still fighting.
My mother doesn’t look at me this time.
She keeps her attention on Isla.
“You will learn,” she says gently. “And you will understand what this means.”
Luna.
The word isn’t said.
It doesn’t have to be.
It’s already there.
Between all of us.
My father’s voice cuts in one last time.
“You shouldn’t delay this much longer.”
The meaning is clear.
The bond shifts.
Tightens.
Pulls.
My gaze locks onto Isla again.
Her reaction.
Her resistance.
Everything.
She’s not leaving. I’m not changing my mind.
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