Page 56 of Watch Me Burn

I’m suddenly thrown back to when I woke up in Homequarters, a pair of handcuffs twisting my arms behind me. That sucked. I hate the idea that someone would do that to Conall.

And Mayor Lou? I thought he was a good guy!

“I asked him to,” says Conall.

Oh. He is a good guy.

And Conall is…

“Have you lost your mind? Why would you do that?”

“Because it was the only way I could think of to keep my wolf from going after you.”

Ouch. Got it, Mr. Grump. You’re a wolf shifter. Your other half thinks I’m the fated mate it’s waited thirty-three years for, but rather than admit that I might work your human half, too, you’d rather lock yourself inchainslike a prisoner.

Okay. Maybe open communication is for the freaking birds.

“Stay over there,” I say again, firmer this time.

He shakes his head roughly. “I can’t.”

“Then good luck with the fire.”

“You won’t burn me.”

“I already did, hotshot.”

“That was different,” insists Conall.

Really? “How?”

“You didn’t have feelings for me then.” For a shifter who seemed so quick to put up walls around us, telling me that I’m his mate with one breath, then assuring me we don’t actually have to act on it in another… he seems pretty fucking sure about that.

I wish I could tell him he’s full of himself. That he’s wrong. It would be a lie, though, and Conall would know the truth the second my scent changed.

He promised he wouldn’t lie to me. I pointed out how it wasn’t fair that he could lie to me all he wanted, but if I tried, hissniffer would pick up on it. In a solemn tone that fit him pretty damn well, he swore that he wouldn’t lie because I was right: it wasn’t fair.

He wanted me to trust him. I remember the slight furrow to his brow when he realized I didn’t after I, you know, lit his tail on fire. He thought I justwould, and if I’m supposed to be his forever mate, I guess that’s a pretty fair assumption to make for a shifter.

But I’m not a shifter. I’m Bridget Hayes, and I did start to trust him. I needed to. When one wrong step down here could lead to my death, I had to rely on Conall.

So I did, and sometime over the last month, I did develop feelings for him.

Is it because of the mate bond? Is it because offate? Did some part of me recognize that his soul was perfect for mine? We’re like two puzzle pieces, different shapes, different personalities, differenteverything, but we seem to fit in a way that never made any sense to me.

Maybe it’s not supposed to be. Maybe true love is a leap of faith, and instead of fighting it—instead of fighting Conall—I’m supposed to jump.

Fuck it. With a snap of my fingers, I make the ring of firehigher.

Conall isn’t the only one putting up walls. And, sure, mine are more literal compared to his figurative ones, but he hurt me. He made me think he cared, then basically rejected me. King of mixed signals, right? And I’m just so damn tired of it.

The flames highlight the sharp planes of his face as he sucks in a breath. “That doesn’t change anything, Red. I love you. You care for me. You’re mymate—and I’ve come for you.”

“Gotta get through my fire first,” I dare.

Talk about a metaphor come to life. My whole life, I never really let people in. Probably because my first serious boyfriendwas a sleaze ball who cheated on me, but not before he shared my nudes with the whole football team. I got a lot of attention the summer before senior year of high school because of it, and I was never lacking for a guy to have a good time with, but I learned my lesson. Guys come and go. So do friends. I haven’t spoken to any of my old friends or my roommates from New York since I left.

That’s why my friendship with Elise was such a revelation. She took the time to get to know me. She never judged me. We shared an affinity for the same silly shoes, the same silly, addictive phone games, the same steamy romance books. She also seemed to need a protector—even though I know now that she can handle herself—and I’ve been the feisty redhead who cares way more for others than they care about her.

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