Page 114 of Burning Embers

“Did you talk to her?” Ashton asks, his voice now clear.

The question is shocking and strange enough to give me pause.

“Isabella, answer me.”

“I… Yes. I mean, not really, but?—”

“Fuck. Okay. I’m on my way. Grab Silas and tell him about Reid. He’ll know what to do before I get there.”

“What’s wrong?—?”

“Now, Isabella!” Ashton snaps, and then there’s nothing but dial tone.

Fucker hung up on me.

Reid’s still shaking, trembling, convulsing. Strange raspy sounds emanate from his body.

“I’ll be right back.” I try to keep my voice low and soothing as I rub his sweaty back. “I’m going to grab Silas.”

I turn to walk away, but his hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. The touch only lasts for a fraction of a second, but I swear my whole body bursts into flames at the contact.

What the hell?

Reid’s hand drops back to his side as he falls to his knees on the ground, his head lowered, his greasy hair almost brown in the waning light.

His voice, a gentle hum, whispers, “Don’t leave me,” but I could just be imagining things.

Either way, my throat closes up, and my skin prickles.

It’s only as I rush into Silas’s office does something occur to me.

Michelle called me Izzy…but I never told her my name.

Thirty-Eight

REID

Who does that bitch think she is?

Threatening my mate?

Izzy may be oblivious, but I’m not. I could see the pure cunning and malice in Michelle’s eyes as she feigned friendliness. The witch looked like a snake just waiting to pounce and bite down, infecting us all with her venom.

I attempt to grapple with my caged wolf, the creature howling despondently as he fights to break free. My eyes will currently be a bright shade of amber, and my hair will have begun to lengthen—though no matter how far my human form mutates, I won’t shift.

Not after what Michelle and her brother did to me.

Bitter loathing rushes through my veins, amplifying my already turbulent emotions. I attempt to curl my hands into fists to keep my claws hidden. The last thing I want to do is terrify my mate.

Izzy.

My mate.

Threatened.

A growl emerges from my throat, reverberating through the hallway, and the hand tentatively patting my back freezes. Stops. Pulls away.

She says something too low for me to hear and then begins to retreat. Every step she takes away from me feels like a blade to the heart.

---