Chapter 7 - Isla
1019 Words
One second I was moving—
The next, I wasn’t.
The world shifted violently as something solid wrapped around me, lifting me completely off the ground before I could react. A sharp breath tore from my chest as I was pulled back against a body that felt like nothing but muscle and heat, my feet leaving the ground like I weighed nothing at all.
“Nico—”
My hands came up instantly, pushing against him, my heart slamming hard enough to make it difficult to think. “Put me down!”
He didn’t.
Of course he didn’t.
His grip tightened just enough to make it clear I wasn’t going anywhere, one arm locked around me like it was effortless, like I wasn’t even close to a challenge to hold onto. The ground shifted beneath us as he turned without hesitation, already moving.
“I gave you a choice,” he said, his voice low against my ear, controlled in a way that somehow made it worse. “You can come back with me willingly—”
My stomach dropped before he even finished.
“—or I drag you back kicking and screaming.”
My breath caught, anger flaring fast enough to cut through the panic.
“You don’t get to—”
“Yes,” he cut in smoothly, not raising his voice, not forcing anything beyond the fact that he already had complete control of the situation. “I do.”
I twisted in his hold, pushing harder this time, trying to break free even though I already knew it wouldn’t work.
It didn’t.
Not even close.
My hands pressed harder against him, my pulse racing as frustration and panic tangled together, sharp and overwhelming. “Nico, stop—” My voice cracked despite myself. “You can’t just decide this!”
“I already have.”
The words were quiet.
Final.
My chest rose and fell too fast, my thoughts scattering in too many directions at once as awareness crashed back in all at once.
People were watching.
I could feel it without even looking—the weight of it, the attention, the silence.
The entire pack.
And he didn’t care.
He didn’t slow down, didn’t hesitate, didn’t even glance around as he carried me straight past the cemetery, past the people who had just watched everything unfold without stepping in.
Because no one was going to stop him.
The realization hit hard, settling deeper than anything else.
This wasn’t just Nico.
This was authority.
Control.
Power that no one here would challenge.
And right now—
That included me.
My fingers curled into his shirt without meaning to, gripping as my body reacted to the movement, to the bond, to the overwhelming reality of what was happening whether I accepted it or not.
“Nico… please,” I said again, quieter this time, the fight slipping just enough for something more honest to break through. “Don’t do this.”
For a second—just a second—I thought I felt something shift.
Something small.
Something I couldn’t quite name.
But it was gone before I could be sure it was ever there.
“This isn’t optional,” he said.
The words settled heavily, leaving no room for interpretation.
My stomach twisted.
I forced myself to look up at him, even though everything in me resisted it. “This won’t fix anything,” I said. “It won’t change what happened.”
His expression didn’t soften.
Didn’t break.
“I’m not trying to fix it.”
That hit harder than anything else he had said.
Because he meant it.
This wasn’t about forgiveness.
This wasn’t about moving on.
This was about control.
About consequence.
About the bond that had just tied us together whether either of us wanted it or not.
My breath caught again as that reality settled in.
I wasn’t being given a choice.
Not really.
Not anymore.
I looked away from him, my chest tight, my thoughts spiraling as the pack house came into view ahead of us—large, familiar, impossible to ignore.
Memories pressed in too quickly. Of being there before. Of a time when none of this existed, when everything had been simpler. Before I had ruined it. Before he had become this. Before everything had shifted into something unrecognizable.
My grip tightened again without thinking.
“Put me down,” I said, quieter now, but no less firm.
He didn’t even look at me this time.
“No.”
The single word settled between us like a wall.
I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping for a second before I forced it back up, refusing to fold into myself the way part of me wanted to. “You can’t keep me here.”
“I can.”
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just fact.
The doors to the pack house opened before we even reached them, members stepping aside immediately as he walked through without slowing. No one questioned him. No one spoke.
They just watched.
And somehow, that was worse.
Because it meant this wasn’t just between us anymore.
This was real.
Public.
Unavoidable.
My chest tightened again as we crossed inside, the air shifting around us, heavier somehow, like even the walls responded to him.
Then it hit me—
Where he was taking me.
Not just inside.
Not somewhere temporary.
Up.
Deeper.
The part of the house no one entered without permission.
Panic flared again, sharper this time, cutting through everything else.
“Nico—”
“This isn’t a discussion,” he said, cutting me off before I could even try.
My breath hitched.
Because I knew that tone.
I remembered it.
And there was no arguing with it.
My heart pounded harder as he carried me farther in, past the point where leaving would have been easy—past the point where this could have still been undone.
And for the first time since stepping back into this town, something settled in my chest with a clarity that left no room for denial.
This wasn’t temporary.
And it wasn’t something I could outrun.
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