Page 64 of Fated for his Flame

Something is wrong.

There was no sense in panicking. So, I didn’t. If someone had followed us there from the Isles or if one of the locals had somehow decided to become an idiot, there was little I could do at that point. They would contact me and demand a ransom. Then I would go to the meet and wait for them to show up.

When they did, I would kill them. All of them. I didn’t care who they were or what they wanted. I would burn them alive, rip their bodies into shreds, snap their necks. Whatever it took to get my Chloe back.

“Mine.” The growl, perpetuated by my dragon, shook the entire villa with its angry strength.

I stood in the center of the entryway, breathing deeply. Considering my next steps. Where should I go. I couldn’t sit around and do nothing.

The lobby. Perhaps she’d gone there, or maybe they’d seen something.

Decision made, I reached for the door handle.

Someone else turned it first.

I stepped back, instantly alert.

“Hey,” Chloe said, stepping into the room, greeting me with a smile as she came forward. “You’re finally back.”

I arched an eyebrow. “So are you.”

She shrugged. “You were gone a long time. I got bored.”

“Where were you?” I asked, sliding past her to peer out the door.

There was no one else present.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, resting a hand on my shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

“Nothing.” I shut the door. “Where did you go?”

Her face scrunched up in a frown. “Out. Just like you. Is that not okay? Why are you all worked up?”

I stared at her, carefully watching her. Her heart was beating fast, I could hear it. Why was she nervous?

“When I came home, you were gone,” I said. “I thought … I thought something happened to you, okay?”

“Oh,” she said with a large sigh, coming in for a hug.

I embraced her, but the pounding of her heart was even more noticeable now. She wasn’t telling me everything.

“Where did you go?” I pushed.

“Out,” she said with a hint of stiffness.

She was lying to me. No, not lying, I decided, but holding back. Not telling me everything. I stared at her. Waiting for an elaboration, an admittance of what she’d been doing or up to while I was gone.

“I went out to go be among my own people,” she said at last, sounding uncomfortable about it all.

“To be among your own people,” I repeated.

“Yes,” she said, sagging. “And it felt so good, Silas. To just be able to wander the streets and not have to worry about someone hating me for being human. Or even worse, wanting to just outright kill me because I’m human. It was so nice. Relaxing. Despite being a single woman walking around alone.”

The last sentence felt tacked on. Like it wasn’t a huge deal for her. She was confident. And I also sensed a kernel of truth in what she was saying. The relief flowing through her as she recounted the experience wasn’t fake. It was real.

She’s not happy among your people.

That was it, then. The reason she was so uncomfortable.

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