Chapter 187
DEREK
The summit hall was finally quiet.
The ceremonial chamber, once filled with the voices of delegates arguing over rogue threats in Europe and shifting alliances, now echoed with only the whisper of the wind through the old stone rafters. I stood by the arched window, watching snow swirl beneath the light of a half-moon, my arms braced against the carved windowsill.
My temples ached. My spine felt like it had been strung too tight for too long. I’d given everything I had to those negotiations today. Every ounce of diplomacy, restraint, and strategic patience. I’d kept my voice even when I wanted to bare my teeth. I’d clenched my fists behind my back instead of slamming them onto the table.
And still, through it all, she was the only thing I could think about.
Elena.
It was ridiculous, how much I craved her presence at the end of the day. Like she was a home I kept returning to, not a woman I was only just starting to win back. Just the thought of her made the tension behind my eyes ease.
I wanted to hear her voice. Watch her laugh. Let her cut through all the power plays and posturing with a single sideways look.
I left the hall without saying another word to the advisors trailing behind me. Let them figure out the rest. For tonight, I had only one objective.
Her door was near the end of the guest wing, overlooking the cliffs. The hallway was quiet, the kind of still that settles only in mountain places where the world feels ancient and close. I lifted my hand to knock—but the door opened before I could.
And there she was.
Barefoot, in leggings and a heavy wool sweater with sleeves too long for her arms, her dark hair curling damply around her shoulders. Her cheeks were pink, probably from a bath, and her eyes lit up the second she saw me.
"You look tired," she said softly, stepping forward without hesitation. Her fingers brushed my brow, tucking back a loose strand of hair. "Long day?"
I sighed, and the weight of it all seemed to leak out of my lungs. "The longest."
"Well," she said, already grinning, "I spent the day with Luna Bryndis learning about the history of Icelandic wolves. Did you know the first ones came over with Erik the Red?"
I blinked. "Seriously?"
She nodded. "Apparently one of his daughters was wolf-bonded. There's a whole saga about her and her bonded mate. There are ruins, sacred burial mounds, and Luna Bryndis even let me hold a ceremonial pendant. It was incredible."
I laughed, head tipping back. Of course she got the Luna to hand over an artifact. That was just so... Elena.
She leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossing over her chest. Her smile had a challenge in it now. "Want to come in?"
Goddess, yes.
But I shook my head slowly and reached for her hand instead. "Actually, I want you to come out. I have a surprise for you."
Her eyes narrowed, intrigued. "A surprise?"
"Wear something warm and comfortable," I said. "And bring your sense of adventure."
She studied me for a second longer, then grinned and disappeared back into her room.
ELENA
I didn’t know where we were going, but I didn’t care.
The second I stepped into the SUV beside Derek, something inside me shifted. It was like the world went quiet again—not in a boring way, but in the way it does when you’re safe. With someone who knows how to lead without controlling you. Who steadies your world without demanding it stop spinning.
The road was long and winding. We passed snow-draped valleys and steaming cracks in the earth that looked like portals to another realm. I kept pressing my fingertips to the window, drawing shapes in the condensation, watching my breath cloud the glass.
"This feels like a kidnapping," I said dryly.
"A romantic one," Derek replied, eyes on the road.
"Still counts."
He smirked but didn’t argue.
Eventually, the road narrowed into a gravel turnout. A young wolf stood there beside a snowmobile, already shifted, tail flicking. Derek turned off the car and nodded toward the trail ahead.
"Don’t worry. You’re not driving."
"Thank the Goddess," I muttered, eyeing the snowmobile like it might bite me.
We climbed aboard, and I wrapped my arms around his waist as the machine roared to life. The cold air bit at my face, but I didn’t care. I was pressed against Derek. I could feel the warmth of him even through our layers. I leaned into it.
After a while, we crested a ridge—and my breath caught.
Lava. Actual lava. Molten gold and orange spilling from a split in the earth, glowing brighter than firelight. It flowed like syrup across black rock, steam hissing as snow tried to land on its surface and instantly turned to mist.
I stared, stunned. "You’re insane."
"Just adventurous," he replied, already grinning.
We dismounted at a roped overlook. There was no one else around. No tour groups. No guides. Just us and the living earth.
I walked to the edge of the platform, wind whipping at my hair. "It’s alive," I whispered. "The earth. It’s breathing."
Arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His chest pressed against my back.
"I thought you’d like it," he murmured.
I turned in his embrace. He looked beautiful like this, bathed in the light of something ancient and wild.
"Is this it? The surprise?"
"Half of it."
We hiked downhill, snow crunching beneath our boots. The moon had risen fully now, silvering the world in frost. Through the trees, steam began to rise again, this time thicker, gentler.
A hot spring.
It was nestled in a cradle of smooth stone, surrounded by black pines. Towels had been left on a bench. A bottle of wine and two glasses waited beside them.
"You’re ridiculous," I said, turning to him with wide eyes.
He just smiled. "You like it."
"I love it."
The air was cold enough to bite, but I peeled off my outer layers anyway, stripping down to a sleek bodysuit. I didn’t even feel the chill. Derek followed suit, and we slipped into the water together.
It was heaven.
Warmth soaked into my bones, steam curling around us like mist. I floated for a while, eyes closed, letting the tension drain from my limbs. Every now and then, I opened one eye and watched him.
His hair was wet, curling around his temples. His arms rested along the edge of the pool, eyes half-lidded as he watched me back.
"You didn’t have to go this far," I said eventually. "A pizza and a foot rub would’ve done the trick."
He glided closer, and I felt him brush against me.
"I wanted to show you something unforgettable," he said.
My heart gave a little flutter.
"Mission accomplished," I whispered.
Then his hands were on me.
He kissed my neck slowly, reverently. I turned into him and met his lips. The kiss deepened. It went from slow to urgent in the space of a breath. My legs wrapped around his waist beneath the water. His hands roamed my back, my hips, pulling me in until there was no space left between us.
He groaned into my mouth when I tugged on his hair. My body ached with how badly I wanted him. I could feel it in him too—the hunger, the restraint.
But I pulled back.
"We should go back to the hotel," I said breathlessly.
He paused, studying me, his chest rising with each inhale.
Then he smiled.
And I knew.
Oh.
We were going to make love again. Not rushed or shadowed by grief. Not as strangers fumbling in a car. This was something else. Something sacred.
And the anticipation of it?
It was almost too much.
