Isabella was the first to wake. A soft beam of dawn light slipped through the curtains, bathing the bedroom in a quiet golden glow. She reached for her phone—5:00 a.m. Saturday morning. She had nothing to do today. No college. No shift at the company. And yet, her body was shaped by routine; she had always awakened early.
She turned her head—and her breath stilled.
Adrian Frost lay beside her, fast asleep. Her husband. The man who turned her world into chaos—yet now brought a strange sense of peace she couldn't explain. His features were relaxed in sleep; sharp jaw, long lashes, and a face that looked carved by gods. He didn't just look handsome—he looked dangerous, powerful… and hers.
For a long moment, she simply watched him, silently tracing the lines of his face with her eyes. Before, she had rejected everything about him. He was her father's rival—she had believed getting close to him would be a betrayal. But fate had her own plans. Adrian was now her husband, chosen by destiny itself.
Her hand moved before she realized it. She gently traced his forehead, the bridge of his nose, the rough stubble on his jaw. Then her fingers stopped—right at his lips. Her heart stuttered.
Adrian's eyes opened.
She froze.
He caught her hand before she could pull away and smirked slowly.
"Good morning, dear wife," he said, voice deep and velvety from sleep.
Her heart stumbled. She didn't know how to respond. She had accepted him, yes—but she still didn't know how to be with him.
"It's considered rude," he murmured, eyes glinting, "not to say good morning back to your husband."
She snapped out of her thoughts. "G–Good morning," she managed softly, trying to pull her hand away.
He let go—but only for a moment.
Before she could escape the bed, he grabbed her waist and pulled her beneath him. A gasp escaped her as she found herself pinned by his warmth and strength.
A-Adrian—"
He didn't let her finish. His lips brushed her cheek, then her forehead—soft, reverent kisses that made her heart race. And when she didn't push him away, something hungry awakened in his eyes.
He claimed her mouth in a deep, consuming kiss.
Her breath vanished, replaced by fire. His kiss wasn't gentle—he tasted, demanded, conquered. When he finally pulled away, both of them were breathless.
"I love you, Isabella," he whispered against her lips. "I love you more than my own life. Now that you're mine, I will never let you go. Not in this life—or any other."
Before she could say anything, his mouth was on hers again—hot, possessive, overwhelming. She didn't know when her hands moved, but they clung to his neck, pulling him closer. He groaned—low and dangerous—and that was all it took for the world to burn.
He didn't stop. Didn't hold back. And she didn't resist.
By the time he finally let her go, she was trembling from exhaustion. She collapsed against his chest, eyes fluttering shut.
He held her protectively, pressing a kiss to her hair. She fell asleep in his arms. He soon followed.
Adrian woke to his phone ringing. He quickly silenced it, careful not to disturb Isabella, who was still sound asleep. He slipped out of bed, pulled on his pajama pants, and stepped out onto the balcony before returning the call.
"Hello, Second Uncle," he said calmly.
Surprisingly, his uncle congratulated him on his marriage and invited him to the Frost Mansion with Isabella. But Adrian knew better. His family didn't want to welcome Isabella—they wanted to scare her. To reveal he was a werewolf. That the Frost family belonged to the powerful Eclipse Pack.
They wanted to take her away from him.
That would never happen. Not while he was still breathing.
He ended the call coldly. They think they can trick me. But no one touches what's mine.
As he was lost in thought, he felt small arms wrap around him from behind.
He turned slightly. Isabella was there, pressing her cheek against his bare back, hugging him sleepily.
"You're awake," he said gently, cupping her face. "Are you feeling alright?"
He searched her expression carefully. He had been rough earlier. Too rough. He was an Alpha—but she was human. He would never forgive himself if he hurt her.
To his surprise, she smiled softly. "I'm fine. Just starving."
He stared at her, stunned for a second. No complaints. No embarrassment. Just… hunger.
She stepped back and tucked her hair behind her ear. "You should take a shower. I'll go make us brunch."
"You know how to cook?" he asked, genuinely surprised. To him, she had always been precious and pampered—untouched by anything laborious.
"I know basic cooking," she said simply. "Dad always taught me that one day, we might have nothing. And when we have nothing, our skills will keep us alive."
A shadow flickered in her eyes. "Mom left us when I was six months old. So Dad… he was everything. He taught me everything."
Adrian watched her—and something inside him clenched. Fierce protectiveness surged through him.
Without a word, he lifted her into his arms.
"Adrian—!"
"We're bathing together," he declared. "Then we'll cook together."
She blushed. "W-Why together?"
He leaned down, voice dark and wicked against her ear. "Because, Mrs. Frost… I'm not done with you yet."
And he carried her straight into the bathroom