Page 22 of Roaring Flames

“Secrets that involve me,” I explain. “And when I confronted one of them about it, he made me feel like it’s all my fault in the first place. Like I’m the problem.”

A thunderous expression crosses Ansel’s face. “Let me guess. Does this ‘friend’ have a name that starts with Ash, ends with Ton, and rhymes with Ass-ton?”

A wry chuckle escapes me, especially at his use of my own nickname for the asshole. “That obvious?”

“I know that you’ve been getting…close to him and his friends. But Illy…” Ansel hesitantly reaches across the table until he brushes his pinkie against mine. Heat emanates from where he touches me, as if he houses some internal fire. “If he’s treating you badly, then throw his ass to the curb. You deserve more than that.”

Those damn butterflies return with a vengeance. I can feel them flapping about in the pit of my stomach.

“Trust me. I don’t want anything to do with Ashton and his dumbass friends. Not until they apologize and beg for my forgiveness.”

And even then, can I forgive them? We’re apparently—god, this sounds insane, even to my own ears—mates. What does that entail? Sex? Am I going to be forced to be with them likethat? In the carnal sense? Ashton hates me, Reid is indifferent to my presence, and the other two…

I don’t want to think about that. About them. I still have free will, and right now my mind is screaming at me to run as far away from them as I can. They lied to me. Hurt me.

Who’s to say they won’t do it again?

Perhaps there’s a way to break this so-called mythical bond.

I make a mental note to speak to Christian about it. He may just be the only person—wolf shifter, whatever—I can trust when it comes to the paranormal.

“Good.” Ansel’s pinkie brushes mine again for a fraction of a second before retreating.

A tendril of heat unfurls in my chest.

He clasps his hands together and straightens nearly imperceptibly, adopting picture-perfect posture that makes me feel like a troll in comparison. “Now…what big plans do you have to celebrate your eighteenth birthday?”

Eight

EMERY

Iglance for the one billionth time today at the tiny velvet box in my hand.

Fuck, am I making the right decision?

Boyfriends give their girlfriends jewelry.

But friends don’t give friends jewelry unless they have ulterior motives.

Is that what Izzy’s going to think when I give her her birthday gift? That I have ulterior motives? That I want more from her than what she’s willing to give me?

Obviously, I want more from her, but I also recognize that she’s not ready for that, ready for me. She doesn’t trust me yet, and I can’t say I blame her. She doesn’t know me from Joe, and we haven’t spent enough time together to change that.

And of course, there’s the whole Grayson thing…

A tremor works its way up my spine when I think about how close that damn Hunter got to Izzy. He could’ve hurt her. Killed her.

But why he would want to hurt her eludes me. She’s human, as far as I can tell, and the only connection she has to the paranormal world is…

I wet my lips with a sound of regret.

Could she have been targeted because of us?

Because of the mating bond?

How did anyone discover the truth?

Questions tumble around in my head as I wait impatiently at Izzy’s locker for her to arrive. I didn’t see her in the morning, but that’s not completely unexpected. She’s probably surrounded by friends and family wishing her a happy birthday. My girl has only been at this school for a short while, and already she has a plethora of friends who love and care for her.

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