Chapter 202: Chapter 202 Island Paradise
Elara
Three days.
Seventy-two hours of my life I’m never getting back. My legs are basically decorative at this point. I’m not a person anymore. I’m a very annoyed houseplant that someone keeps watering and then fucking.
Dominic carried me to breakfast. Carried me to the balcony for air. Carried me back to bed because apparently walking was optional now.
By the time we were supposed to show our faces at the pack house for the post-wedding visit, it was almost noon.
I was furious.
“Dominic,” I snapped, my voice hoarse from three days of misuse. “Did you just lose your virginity last week? Is this your first time having sex? Because I need to know if this is inexperience or a medical condition.”
He rubbed the back of his neck like a kid caught stealing cookies. At least he had the grace to look embarrassed.
“Baby, you said your legs were sore.”
“I will end you.”
I grabbed a pillow and whacked him across the chest. He didn’t dodge. He just laughed and caught my wrist, pulling me against him.
“Okay, okay. Truce. Go get dressed. Grandma’s waiting.”
We arrived two hours late.
Elizabeth didn’t even blink. She just waved us in and said, “You two look happy. That’s all that matters.”
My face went red. “Grandma, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t be. I remember being married.” She had a glint in her eye that made me want to disappear into the floor. “Now sit. Eat. You’re both too skinny.”
I told her we were planning to stay nearby. The newlywed house was close anyway, and I didn’t want to be far from her.
She thought for a second, then said, “You know, Hunter mentioned he has an empty villa next door. Ten-minute walk. You could have your own space and still come over for dinner every night.”
Dominic nodded. “That’s actually perfect.”
“Grandma, are you sure—”
She waved me off. “My memory’s going anyway. Playing chess with Hunter will keep me sharp. And Orion’s a sweet kid. Keeps things lively.”
I let it go.
When Hunter heard we were moving in next door, he was practically glowing.
“So, Elara,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “how much time off do you have? You two doing a honeymoon?”
I opened my mouth to say we hadn’t planned anything.
Dominic answered first. “Already handled. We leave tomorrow. Ten days. Grandma’s yours.”
Hunter snorted. “Thanks. Love being treated like the help.”
“You love it. Don’t lie.”
I turned to my mate. “Since when do we have a honeymoon planned?”
He grinned. “Since you said you wanted to sunbathe. I have a private island. Just us. You can lie naked on the beach while I rub oil on your back.”
“That’s not a honeymoon. That’s a kidnapping with nicer scenery.”
“Tomato, tomahto.”
I looked at Elizabeth for backup. She was pretending to be very interested in her tea.
“Grandma?”
“I’m not getting involved. You married him.”
Traitor.
I turned back to Dominic. “I’m not going.”
His smile widened. “Babe. Please?”
I said nothing.
“I’m taking that as a yes.”
--
I spent the entire flight trying to figure out if Dominic had secretly been raised by wolves or if he was just making up for lost time.
My ass was still sore.
He had me in the aisle seat, hand on my thigh like it belonged there, and I was still so mad I could barely look at him.
“You’re pouting,” he said, not even looking up from his book.
“I’m not pouting. I’m plotting.”
“Good. Keeps you sharp.”
I kicked his ankle under the tray table. He didn’t flinch.
The private jet touched down on an island so small it didn’t even have a name. Just palm trees, white sand, and a house made entirely of glass and wood that looked like it had been dropped there by a very rich god.
“This is your private island?”
“Technically, it’s ours now. Marriage laws.”
I turned to stare at him. “You’re telling me you just gave me an island without mentioning it?”
He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I have a few.”
A few.
I married a man who casually owns multiple private islands and didn’t think it was worth mentioning.
I was still processing that when he took my hand and led me down the steps onto the sand. Warm. Quiet. The only sound was the waves and the wind and the distant call of some bird I couldn’t name.
I hated how good it felt.
“So,” he said, sliding his sunglasses on. “Pool. Ocean. Hammock. Or we can start with lunch and work our way toward the bedroom.”
“I literally just got off a plane.”
“And I’ve been waiting three days since the wedding. I’m a patient man, but I have limits.”
I laughed before I could stop myself. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You married me anyway.”
“I had a fever. It doesn’t count.”
He grinned, pulling me toward the house. His hand was warm, calloused, steady. The kind of hand that had never dropped anything he didn’t want to lose.
I didn’t pull away.
Maybe I was just tired.
Or maybe—just maybe—I was starting to realize I didn’t hate being his.
I’d figure out what that meant later.
For now, there was a beach, a husband with too many islands, and ten days of nothing ahead of us.
I let myself enjoy it.
