Page 57 of Watch Me Burn

I told Conall that before we had our first kiss. That’s why I love Aunt Maureen and Elise so much. They care about me—and as much as I want to deny it, I know that Conall cares, too.

So he’s not the greatest with words. So he grunts and he growls, and right now he’s prowling outside of the fire, looking for a way in. Actions speak louder than words, and he’s never shied away for showing me his affection in the way a lone wolf who was raised in the wilds of Alaska could: by bringing me the carcasses of his hunts and spending fifteen dollars on a bottle of VO5 at the commissary.

“I broke through chains to get here,” he growls. “Burn me, Red, because that’s the only way you’ll be able to stop me.”

It’s not a threat. To my possessive shifter, going through something I can’t quite understand since I’m not one, it’s avow.

“I’m not bluffing,” I tell him.

His nostrils flare. Shit. Was that a lie?

It… might’ve been.

“I don’t care. There isn’t anything I won’t do to get to you,” is his ferocious reply before he presses his palm against the wall of fire.

The impact is too fleeting for any real damage. That’s because I freak, immediately willing it away before his skin could sizzle.

The cave plunges into darkness that seems even more impenetrable for how sudden it is. The air crackles, pulsing with something intangible, yet undeniable. Flames flicker back to life behind me, providing illumination just in time for me to see Conall looming over me.

I gulp—one part nervous, one part super fucking aroused—as his gaze eats up mine.

He doesn’t gloat. Though I want to believe that he only tested me because he knew that I would never willingly fry his hand like that, that’s not Conall. He would’ve walked through fire to get to me, whether I left the wall flickering around me or not.

And that realization has me baring my throat just enough that he can’t read that at anything other than my submission.

His eyesburn. “You care for me.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement.

I shrug.

“You’re my fated mate.”

That’s what he told me.

Conall’s hand “You’remine.”

My hands fly up between our bodies, bracing against against his hard, heaving chest. I can feel the rhythm of his racing heart against my palms—and the bulge in his jeans pushing against my lower belly.

I smirk up at him. “I’ve heard that before. But nothing changed.”

“That’s because you hadn’t fed me.”

What? “What are you talking about? I’ve bought you dinner at the canteen a bunch of times.”

“That’s right, Red. You bought me food, and while I appreciate it, I know better than to take that as a sign that you consider me your mate. But you brought food to my den. Don’t deny it. Your scent was all over the sandwich.”

“I didn’t make it by hand or anything,” I tell him a touch breathlessly, just in case he got the wrong idea. “I bought that from the canteen, too.”

“I know. But you brought it to me. You were trying to provide for your male. And that makes me your male. I’m your mate, whether we’re bonded or not. And I’ll wait for you as long as it takes for you to accept me. It’s just… I know I needed to stay away from you tonight and I couldn’t. I don’t think Ican.”

Fuck me. When Conall goes vulnerable like that, I’m putty in his freaking claws.

I slide my hands up, cupping his jaw. I have every intention of kissing him, but my head snaps up, searching his face. “You’re on fire, Conall.” I free one hand, using the back of it to feel his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

He shudders out a breath. “It’s the moon fever,” he admits. “It’s why I needed to be chained up. When the Luna is out, a shifter needs his mate. Rubbing my cock raw only does so much when my instincts are pushing me to make you mine.”

“Is that why you’re here? Why you came after me?”

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