CHAPTER 219: CHAPTER 220: YOU SMELL LIKE PARADISE

Isabella stood frozen.

Her breath hitched as the voice—that voice—slithered down her spine like a whispered spell.

It couldn’t be.

No, no, no.

Before she could twist around to confirm it, the hand on her waist tightened, drawing her body flush against a solid, far-too-warm chest. Her breath caught again, lodged in her throat like a stone.

"Mmh... stand still for a moment."

His voice was hoarse, gravelly like he’d just woken from a dream where she belonged to him.

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. His arms weren’t just holding her—he was anchoring her, pulling her into something she didn’t understand. Her heart thundered so violently against her ribs, she was sure he could hear it.

Then his head dipped—to her neck.

Isabella stiffened, but only for a second.

His breath fanned against her skin, a warm caress that made her shiver, and the tip of his nose brushed along her collarbone. Then he inhaled, slow and deep, like he was tasting her scent.

Her knees almost gave way.

And worse?

Instead of fear, her body relaxed.

Betrayed her.

A fluttering heat blossomed low in her stomach, crawling up her spine and down her thighs like tiny, invisible fingers. Her lips parted slightly, eyes fluttering shut as her hand lifted, almost involuntarily, into his hair. She barely noticed how silky it was between her fingers, how the strands slipped like water.

If only he could just—

She tilted her head to the side without realizing it, giving him more access to her neck, more of her skin to breathe in.

Her body wanted this.

Her mind screamed traitor.

"Mmh..."

A soft sound escaped her throat, almost a purr, startling her back to reality.

His lips were—were kissing her now.

What the hell.

Her hand snapped into action, fingers clutching his hair tightly, yanking it back like she was trying to pull a tree out of the ground.

"Why do you smell so good?" he growled, his mouth hot against her ear.

NOPE.

She yanked his hair harder.

Nothing.

He didn’t even flinch. Didn’t budge. Her arm trembled from the effort, but he was just too damn strong. And way, way too tall for her to intimidate properly.

Instead of letting go like a normal person with boundaries, he just stood there, staring at her with a gaze so intense, it knocked the breath out of her lungs again.

She finally turned, her nose brushing his, trying to give him a look of "back off, you beast."

Except...

Their lips brushed.

Her eyes flew open.

This man—this lunatic—still hadn’t moved back. He just blinked down at her, calm, smug, and probably amused, like the walking danger he clearly was.

The moonlight draped across his face like a painting. His stupidly chiseled cheekbones, that strong jaw, those lips—the ones still too close to hers.

And his eyes...

Those red eyes.

They didn’t just glow. They smoldered, like a fire banked low, waiting for someone dumb enough to poke it.

What emotion was that swimming in them? Hunger? Longing?

No. It was something deeper. Something she didn’t want to name.

His hair was wet, sticking to his face and shoulders like he’d just come out of the river. The water clung to his skin, trailing down over his collarbone to his chest—where a strange black marking stretched across his bronze skin.

And for a second, she forgot how to breathe.

He looked like he belonged to the night itself—dangerous, ethereal, too beautiful to be anything normal.

She swallowed. Hard.

What the hell was this reaction?

No, don’t you dare say she was turned on. This wasn’t the same heat she’d felt with Kian in the hot spring yesterday. Back then, she could still think. Still flirt. Still breathe.

But this?

This was madness wrapped in velvet.

Zyran. Of course, it was him.

That infuriating mystery man.

The one she couldn’t stop dreaming about.

The one who haunted her thoughts like a half-finished sentence.

The second she realized how close they still were, Isabella jerked away. Her heel slipped on a rock beneath the water, but she caught herself with a graceless hop and a flail of her arms.

His eyes never left her.

"How much did you miss me, little temptress?" he asked, lips curling into a smirk that showed off all his perfect white teeth. (y’all is about to start blushing everyday with this particular one)

Isabella gaped. Temptress?!

Her cheeks went up in flames.

"You’re wearing the dress I gifted you... that’s good," he added, voice dropping lower, smoother.

Each word soaked into her like honey, slow and dangerous. He didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes roamed her figure, lingering on her waist, hips, legs. She fought the urge to cover herself with her arms like some blushing maiden.

She was not blushing. Definitely not.

Except... her ears burned.

And worse—her system was probably recording all this. That devil Bubu would definitely throw this in her face later.

But even as her brain scrambled to reboot, her gaze drifted back to the strange markings across his chest. They looked like jackals—black jackals.

Wait.

Egypt?

Anubis?

No, no, that didn’t make sense.

This world was still crawling through the early Stone Age. No empires, no civilizations. It was all fur skirts, crude weapons, and meat roasting over open fire. Where would this man—this alien of a man—get jewelry and body art like that?

Yet here he was, adorned in glinting gold and black stones, like some ancient god had come slumming down into her timeline just to mess with her uterus.

She blinked again.

He wore an earring, too—delicate, a gold ring hugged close to his lobe, with a chain that disappeared behind his ear. On his wrist? Bracelets. Not the ugly ones either. Real ones. Shiny. Intricately carved.

He even had rings. RINGS.

Who in the Stone Age wore rings?

Was he rich? Some rogue noble from another tribe? A lost prince? A crazy time traveler? A bored deity? Even if he was, still DID NOT make sense...

Or maybe...

Just maybe...

He wasn’t from here at all.

That would explain the way he always appeared and disappeared like smoke. The way his eyes practically glowed. The way he could hold her like she weighed nothing. The way he spoke like he’d lived a thousand lives.

Her heartbeat thundered again, a mix of confusion, suspicion, and way-too-much unwanted attraction.

She crossed her arms, which only pushed her breasts up and—dammit, his eyes dropped.

Of course they did.

"You... you just appear out of nowhere, say weird things, sniff people like some bloodhound, and then expect what, exactly?" she snapped, trying to regain an ounce of her dignity.

He grinned wider.

"You smell like paradise."

Oh, hell no.