Isabelle POV:
The moment my feet touched the solid ground of the grassy bank, I shoved him hardly.Away from his touch, away from his scent, coughing up lake water and bile. The electric current that had coursed through me was gone, replaced by a chilling revulsion.
Jalon looked at me, a flicker of surprise in his storm-gray eyes.
A crowd was gathering around us, their whispers a low buzz. Their eyes darted between me, shivering and soaked, and Jalon, the hero of the moment. Among them, I spotted Julian, his dark eyes gleaming with undisguised curiosity. He stood slightly apart, watching the scene unfold with that unnerving stillness of his.
Jalon shrugged off his light jacket and moved to place it around my shoulders. I flinched, but he was stronger, his movements firm and unyielding. He wrapped the fabric around me,my soul sighed in contentment, a traitorous whisper in my own mind, while my stomach churned with disgust.
"Isabelle!"
Aidan's voice cut through the crowd. My cousin pushed his way to the front, his brow furrowed with worry. His eyes landed on me, then on the jacket I was wearing, and his expression tightened. "What happened?"
My mind raced. I couldn't tell them the truth. They wouldn't believe my hatred for Jalon. After years of my childish crush, they would only see this as a game, a desperate ploy for attention.
I had to sever this connection. Now. Publicly.
I grabbed Aidan's arm, my fingers digging into his bicep. My voice came out weak, trembling, but clear. "It was my fault... I was trying to catch Lucy. I slipped."
I took the blame, erasing any possibility that this was a planned encounter.
Beside me, Lucy, her face pale with fright, nodded vigorously. "Yes, it was me, I'm so sorry, Miss Isabelle, I'm so clumsy-"
I turned my most pathetic, pleading eyes on my cousin. "Aidan, I'm so cold. Can you please take me back to the manor?"
It was a deliberate choice. A public declaration. In my moment of distress, I was turning to my family, to a Blackwood, not to the outsider who had saved me.
Aidan's protective instincts kicked in immediately. "Of course, Belle." He bent to scoop me into his arms.
"She needs to get warm immediately," Jalon's low voice interjected. He took a step forward. "I can get her there faster." The possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable, a low thrum of Alpha dominance that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
My body went rigid.
Then, with a single, decisive movement, I ripped his jacket from my shoulders.The fabric, heavy with water, landed on the damp grass with a soft thud.
I lifted my chin, meeting Jalon's gaze for the first time. My voice was ice. "That won't be necessary, thank you, Mr. Wells. I'm not accustomed to accepting help from strangers."
Mr. Wells. The formal address was a slap in the face. A chasm opened between us.
The air grew thick, heavy with unspoken tension. Jalon's face, which had been a mask of polite concern, became something else entirely. It was a canvas of stone, his jaw tight, his eyes darkening to the color of a thunderhead.
His inner wolf was raging. I could feel it, a wave of fury and wounded pride rolling off him. His fated mate had just publicly, brutally, rejected him.
Aidan, stunned by my actions, recovered quickly. He shot a confused, apologetic glance at Jalon before lifting me into his arms.
I buried my face in Aidan's chest, a silent, final dismissal. I didn't look back.
As Aidan carried me away, his long strides eating up the distance, I knew Jalon's eyes were still on me. I could feel them burning into my back.
