Christina’s POV
The signal needed sothing eye-catching.
Hudson suggested coating the rocks with sothing bright red.
"Make it visible from the sky," he instructed.
I uncapped my designer lipstick. Talk about irony. The most expensive makeup in my collection was about to beco beach art.
"At least it’s finally serving a practical purpose," Akira comnted in my mind.
"Better than sitting in my drawer waiting for special occasions that never happen," I agreed silently.
Working thodically, I ground the lipstick down against the stones, coating each visible surface with the crimson shade. The sun beat down rcilessly on my neck as I worked, but there was sothing strangely satisfying about the task.
When the lipstick was nothing but an unrecognizable stub and the final ’S’ was in place, I stood back to admire my work.
[SOS]
Not exactly gallery-worthy, but it would have to do. The bright red letters were visible from above. If anyone flew over, they couldn’t miss it.
A thought suddenly struck . I sprinted back to my suitcase and began rummaging frantically.
Hudson glanced over from where he was securing bark to our shelter’s fra. "What are you looking for?"
"Just wait," I muttered, still digging through my belongings.
My fingers closed around sothing solid. "Found it!" I announced triumphantly, pulling out my digital cara.
I hurried back to my lipstick masterpiece and started snapping photos. Might as well docunt our Robinson Crusoe adventure. If we survived this, I’d have one hell of a story for Ysolde.
While capturing different angles of my SOS sign, I noticed Hudson working shirtless in my peripheral vision. His muscles flexed with each movent as he tied bark onto the cone-shaped fra of our shelter.
"Hudson!" I called suddenly.
He looked up, alert and focused.
Click.
The shutter captured him perfectly—bare-chested, those sculpted muscles glistening slightly with sweat, his board shorts hanging low on his hips. Even in survival mode, he looked like he belonged on the cover of so "Hot Wilderness Alpha" calendar.
I flipped through to check the photo and my breath caught. The cara had captured sothing I rarely saw in Hudson—vulnerability. Those intense blue eyes held a warmth.
"He’s actually worried about us," Akira whispered in my mind.
"Or just annoyed I’m wasting battery on photos instead of helping," I countered.
I heard footsteps approaching from behind.
"What are you doing?" Hudson asked, his voice closer than I expected. "Taking tourist photos of our disaster?"
"Nothing important." I quickly shoved the cara back into my suitcase. "I’ll help you finish the shelter. It’ll go faster with two pairs of hands."
"Even if one pair belongs to soone who couldn’t tell a load-bearing branch from a twig?" His tone was dry, but there was sothing almost playful in it.
"Hey, I built an award-winning jewelry display once," I protested. "Sa principle, just... smaller. And with less potential for death if it collapses."
His lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but close enough.
***
Two days passed on our private island paradise—if paradise included sleeping on the ground, eating nothing but fish and wild olives, and constantly wondering if anyone was actually looking for us.
By now, the cruise would have docked back at its ho port. Were people searching? Had anyone even noticed we were missing?
I lay inside our makeshift shelter, staring at the patches of sunlight filtering through the bark roof. Outside, Hudson was dismantling my cara lens to start our evening fire.
He sat cross-legged on a flat rock, setting up dry grass and small sticks while pointing the lens at the sunset. He moved like he’d done this a million tis.
I saw him fixing the diving glove on his right hand, the sa one he’d worn since we got here.
"Going diving?" I pointed at the glove.
His expression didn’t change, but I caught sothing in his eyes. "It’s useful. Protects my hands from sharp stuff when I’m collecting things."
I nodded. Made sense. With all the scary stuff around—sharp rocks, bad plants, weird bugs—better to be safe.
The afternoon sun and sound of waves made sleepy. The last few days had worn out completely. We’d figured out a way to take turns staying awake since neither of us wanted to sleep too deeply with who knows what out there.
Thank goodness Hudson knew which plants were okay to eat. Without him, I would’ve killed myself by now. Once, I went to grab so colorful berries and Hudson grabbed my hand super fast.
"Those will stop you from breathing in minutes," he said. "The bad stuff gets in through your skin."
Got it. After that, I let him pick our food.
When I woke up, Hudson had already packed a bag for our daily hunt for food. I stretched and stared at the ocean, then looked at him.
Sothing about him here, without his fancy suits and business etings, reminded of the old wolf leaders from my mom’s stories. Tough, self-sufficient, connected to the wild in ways today’s wolves weren’t.
I felt strangely calm. Even though we were stuck, I felt safe with him here.
"Maybe staying here wouldn’t be so bad," I thought.
"As long as we have food and Hudson," Akira said.
That afternoon, we walked deeper into the island than before. The plants got thicker, the shade got darker. I stayed a little behind Hudson, who kept putting himself between and whatever might hurt us.
"Don’t wander off," he said, holding his arm out to keep behind him. "New place ans new dangers."
He had on the sa light gray shirt from before, regular pants and the leather shoes from his suitcase. Nothing special about what he wore, but the way he protected from everything was really attractive.
My heart started beating faster, and I realized I was staring at his back.
I knew how much this guy affected .
But I had to be smart about it. I couldn’t let myself get too close.
"Stop staring at and watch your surroundings," he said without turning.
Heat rushed to my face.
How did he always know? Like he could see behind him sohow.
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