Delia arrived at the marina and parked her car, her gaze immediately drawn to the large yacht docked nearby. She recognized it as Nate’s from the Jackson & Associates’ logo and it being the only one left at the marina. As she made her way towards the vessel, she saw Nate descending to meet her, his eyes fixed on her in admiration. “Delia, you look stunning, darling," Nate exclaimed as he reached her, taking her hands and admiring her from head to toe. “Thank you," Delia murmured, feeling a bit uncomfortable under his intense gaze. Nate shook his head slightly, as if to snap out of his reverie, and gestured for her to follow him onto the boat. "This way," he said with a smile. Once aboard, the captain set sail, and they were soon underway. Nate led Delia inside the cabin, which was elegantly fitted with plush seating and a bar in the corner. “Would you like some champagne?" Nate offered, gesturing towards the well-stocked bar that held a bottle of Dom Perignon in an ice buck
As Rafe and Natasha took the stage, Delia remained transfixed in her spot, unable to tear her gaze away. Rafe still wore the same suit he had on earlier that evening, with the burgundy tie that somehow perfectly matched Natasha’s dress. It was a subtle yet unmistakable announcement of their supposed couplehood, conveyed through coordinated attire. Delia had anticipated attending the event and showing Rafe what he was missing, but the pang of hurt she felt seeing them together caught her off guard. It was one thing to intellectually prepare for the situation, but witnessing it unfold before her eyes stirred up a tumult of emotions she wasn’t prepared for. As if sensing her presence, Rafe looked up and caught her eyes, momentarily surprised to see her here standing with Aria and Ethan. He could see the hurt in her eyes and swallowed the guilt he felt inwardly. He wished she weren’t here to cause herself this pain. Despite everything, his heart yearned for her, and seeing her her
As Rafe found himself in the midst of a throng of people wishing congratulations to him and Natasha, his mind was elsewhere...Delia! Natasha, dressed elegantly beside him, smiled and graciously accepted the attention, her demeanor poised and charming. Rafe kept up the charade as he thanked those who approached them. However, his silver eyes kept scanning the sea of faces, searching for a way to escape the relentless attention. Spotting an opening near a cluster of potted plants at the edge of the garden, Rafe subtly maneuvered Natasha towards the quieter area. With a polite excuse about needing a moment to catch his breath, he gently extricated himself from Natasha's side, her hand briefly lingering on his arm before she turned her attention back to the guests. Once out of the immediate spotlight, Rafe took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing marginally as he found a temporary respite from the overwhelming social interaction. Rafe stood there reflected on the events of the eve
The ferry cut through the crystal-clear waters, its sleek hull slicing through the gentle waves with ease. As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden hue over the island of St. John, a sense of anticipation filled the air. Among the handful of passengers stood Delia, a 23 year old woman with long black hair dancing in the wind, her emerald green eyes filled with hope for the future, her heart heavy with the weight of her past. The journey to St. John had been long and arduous. Delia had boarded planes and boats, traversing vast distances with a single purpose in mind: to find refuge on the tranquil shores of this small island. With each passing moment, the island drew closer, its lush greenery and pristine beaches beckoning to her. Gripping the railing tightly, her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. This island wasn’t just an escape—it was an opportunity to flee from the shadows of her past that had unexpectedly returned to haunt her once ag
As Alpha Raphael Donovan, known as Rafe to his closest friends, sat in his office overlooking the sprawling grounds of his mansion, a sense of restlessness gnawed at him. Papers lay scattered across his desk, detailing the various affairs of his pack and Rafe tried to focus on them as he ran his fingers through his thick jet black hair. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different today. His wolf paced restlessly within him, urging him to seek out the source of their unease. Rafe stood from his desk and stretched to his full height of almost seven feet, his cold silver eyes, scanning the mountain of paperwork. As the leader of the Nightclaw Pack, one of the three largest packs in the area and a member of the Coastal Wolves Alliance, he bore the weight of responsibility on his broad shoulders, ensuring the safety and prosperity of his people amidst the ever-shifting tides of the supernatural world. The Nightclaw Pack’s territory encompassed almost the entire island
It was half-past eight in the morning when Delia started to rouse from her sleep, gently stirring into consciousness. With a languid stretch, she finally woke herself from the sleepy haze and padded her way into the bathroom to get ready for the day. She opted to use the partially walled outdoor shower that offered the expansive view of the bay. As the warm water flowed over and rinsed her tanned skin, Delia closed her eyes and relished the feeling. The morning sun painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, casting a radiant glow over the bay below. A distant sound of bustling morning activities coupled with roosters crowing echoed through the bay. With a contented sigh, Delia came out of the shower, her skin tingling with the freshness of the morning air. She quickly donned a mint green cotton dress adorned with delicate pink roses. She swiftly blow dried her long black hair and applied a touch of minimal makeup that completed her look, leaving her feeling effortlessly chic and r
Delia spotted Marcus leaning against the sleek black SUV, engrossed in his phone. As she approached, he straightened up, giving her a curt nod of acknowledgment. "Good morning," he greeted in a low rumble before opening the door for her. Delia couldn't help but notice the contrast in size between herself and the men of this island; Marcus, though tall and well built, still seemed smaller compared to Rafe's commanding stature. She chuckled inwardly, feeling like a garden gnome amidst these towering giants. As Delia settled into the passenger seat, she studied Marcus’ profile. His buzz cut and tattoos peeking from under his shirt gave him a dangerous vibe but he had kind brown eyes, which contrasted against his appearance. Breaking into her chain of thoughts Marcus asked, “Where to, Ms. Scott?" His voice gruff but respectful. "You may call me Delia, Marcus," she replied, prompting a grunt of approval from him. Delia requested they head to a phone store, and they set off down the wi
As Rafe hung up the phone with Marcus, he was satisfied knowing where Delia was and what she was doing. Marcus was instructed to provide a report of her whereabouts every hour. His encounter with her earlier that morning had been a tantalizing experience that tested his self control to its limit. When she had opened the front door, her expression a mix of awe and surprise, Rafe couldn't help but marvel at the beauty that greeted him. He was entranced by Delia's mesmerizing green eyes, like emeralds sparkling in the sunlight, and the way her long black hair fell in soft waves, framing her heart-shaped face. Her delicate, straight nose and the slight curve of her plump pink lips were irresistible. He found himself imagining what they might taste like. When he was hit with her alluring scent of fresh mountain snow, his mind screamed “MATE”. After all these years, he could scarcely fathom that his fated had literally found her way to him, to his island and into his property. Alt
As Rafe found himself in the midst of a throng of people wishing congratulations to him and Natasha, his mind was elsewhere...Delia! Natasha, dressed elegantly beside him, smiled and graciously accepted the attention, her demeanor poised and charming. Rafe kept up the charade as he thanked those who approached them. However, his silver eyes kept scanning the sea of faces, searching for a way to escape the relentless attention. Spotting an opening near a cluster of potted plants at the edge of the garden, Rafe subtly maneuvered Natasha towards the quieter area. With a polite excuse about needing a moment to catch his breath, he gently extricated himself from Natasha's side, her hand briefly lingering on his arm before she turned her attention back to the guests. Once out of the immediate spotlight, Rafe took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing marginally as he found a temporary respite from the overwhelming social interaction. Rafe stood there reflected on the events of the eve
As Rafe and Natasha took the stage, Delia remained transfixed in her spot, unable to tear her gaze away. Rafe still wore the same suit he had on earlier that evening, with the burgundy tie that somehow perfectly matched Natasha’s dress. It was a subtle yet unmistakable announcement of their supposed couplehood, conveyed through coordinated attire. Delia had anticipated attending the event and showing Rafe what he was missing, but the pang of hurt she felt seeing them together caught her off guard. It was one thing to intellectually prepare for the situation, but witnessing it unfold before her eyes stirred up a tumult of emotions she wasn’t prepared for. As if sensing her presence, Rafe looked up and caught her eyes, momentarily surprised to see her here standing with Aria and Ethan. He could see the hurt in her eyes and swallowed the guilt he felt inwardly. He wished she weren’t here to cause herself this pain. Despite everything, his heart yearned for her, and seeing her her
Delia arrived at the marina and parked her car, her gaze immediately drawn to the large yacht docked nearby. She recognized it as Nate’s from the Jackson & Associates’ logo and it being the only one left at the marina. As she made her way towards the vessel, she saw Nate descending to meet her, his eyes fixed on her in admiration. “Delia, you look stunning, darling," Nate exclaimed as he reached her, taking her hands and admiring her from head to toe. “Thank you," Delia murmured, feeling a bit uncomfortable under his intense gaze. Nate shook his head slightly, as if to snap out of his reverie, and gestured for her to follow him onto the boat. "This way," he said with a smile. Once aboard, the captain set sail, and they were soon underway. Nate led Delia inside the cabin, which was elegantly fitted with plush seating and a bar in the corner. “Would you like some champagne?" Nate offered, gesturing towards the well-stocked bar that held a bottle of Dom Perignon in an ice buck
As the day of the Full Moon Festival approached, Delia had successfully evaded a confrontation with Rafe, mainly by hiding in her new room at the mansion for the past two days. Rafe had come by occasionally, trying to coax her into letting him in but she iced him out. As long as he was still going with Natasha, she had nothing to say to him. She remained steadfast in her decision, refusing to engage with him despite his persistent attempts. The only visitor she allowed in was Ethan. Delia had confided to him about the entire situation and while Ethan had been disappointed by his Alpha’s actions, a part of him understood his reasoning behind it. Delia, however, had not been able to tell Ethan she was going to the festival.... with Nate! She knew that everyone assumed she would just avoid the event based on how she felt about the entire situation. On the day of the festival, she sat quietly by her window, her gaze fixated on the breathtaking sight of the sun sinking into
As Nate and Delia entered Phillip’s Brew, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped them. Nate guided Delia to a cozy corner table, away from the crowd. Delia caught Phillip’s eye as they made their way to the table and gave him a small wave. Phillip nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes lingering on them with curiosity. Nate stepped away briefly to order their coffees. He returned with two steaming cups and placed one before her. Delia offered him a small, appreciative smile, as she noted that he remembered what she liked and got her a cup of cappuccino. Sitting down opposite her, Nate's gaze softened as he searched her face, his expression earnest. "Delia, about the other day," he began, his voice sincere. "I'm sorry for the way I behaved. It's just that I do care about you and this situation with Natasha and Rafe... I can't help but think you might end up with the short end of the stick." Delia listened quietly, absorbing Nate's words, wondering if he was correct. “It’s
As the incessant ringing of Rafe's phone pierced the tranquil air of the bedroom, both he and Delia stirred from their slumber. Delia was nestled against Rafe, his nose buried in her hair, inhaling her snowy scent and lulling his beast into a state of calm. With a groggy murmur, Rafe reached for his phone, his senses sharpening as he saw Natasha's name flashing on the screen. He sat up with a jerk. Delia turned over at his sudden movement and caught glimpse of the caller name on his phone. “I need to get this”, Rafe mumbled and hurriedly stepped out onto the balcony to take the call, leaving Delia on his bed staring after him. “Natasha, where are you?" Rafe's voice carried a tinge of urgency as he answered. Natasha's cheerful tone resonated through the line. "Hello to you too Rafe! I'm back in St. Germain. I figured there was no point in lingering there since you'll be joining me here for the Full Moon Festival tomorrow." Rafe responds saying, “I see..” “I saw your
In the wee hours of the morning, Rafe returned to his room after questioning and torturing the prisoners in an attempt to extract information. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to get anything out of them even though their lives were hanging by a thread. Additionally, Ethan had reported back saying he wasn’t able to locate Natasha. She was last seen leaving High Tide shortly after Rafe had departed, getting into a black SUV with tinted windows. Ethan had tracked her scent till the marina, but it seemed she may have already left and headed back to St. Germain. When Rafe tried to reach her by phone, her phone went directly to voicemail. The weight of the events of the night hung heavy on his shoulders as he entered the quiet confines of his bedroom. He had already stripped off his blood-stained clothes and showered in the guest bathroom, washing away the physical remnants of the night's ordeal. He expected to find Delia fast asleep on his bed, her peaceful form a reassuring
Rafe tenderly carried Delia through the corridors of his mansion. As he reached his bedroom on the third floor, he carefully laid her down on his bed and covered her with a blanket. “It's over now, Delia," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm in the darkness. He didn’t think she had seen anything but wasn’t sure how much she may have heard during the chaos. Climbing into bed beside her, Rafe wrapped his arms around Delia, pulling her close to his chest. He held her tightly, offering her warmth and reassurance as she shed silent tears, her emotions raw and unguarded in the quiet of the night. Safe in Rafe’s embrace, Delia finally succumbed to sleep. As Rafe pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, he found solace in the simple act of holding her close, knowing that he would do whatever it took to protect her from harm. Rafe lay awake beside Delia as his mind churned with questions and doubts. The sudden attack by the rogue pirates on the villa seemed too calculated t
As Rafe carried her into the villa, Delia's protests fell on deaf ears as he firmly held her in place, his grip unyielding. "Rafe, put me down!" Delia exclaimed, her voice echoing through the halls as she thumped against his back, her frustration mounting. In response, Rafe's hand came down on her behind, lightly slapping it. He walked through the villa, out onto the veranda and then the pool area. He finally set Delia down on her feet. With a deft hand, he removed her top and unbuttoned her shorts, pulling them down and leaving her standing in nothing but her lace bra and underwear. “Rafe, what are you doing?" Delia questioned as she met his intense gaze. But Rafe's eyes darkened at the sight of her. “Let's go for a swim," he suggested in a husky tone, as he removed his shirt, revealing his sculpted eight-pack. Delia's breath caught in her throat as she stared at him in awe, the realization dawning on her that this man before her was nothing short of a god. Without wa