Page 30 of Fire Bound

“Both of you really need to stop talking in riddles.” Isabeau shakes her head. “I’m incapable of getting a headache, but you two are making me fucking get one. Get your shit together, demon, and make it right—” Her face suddenly falls and her chin lifts, nostrils flaring. “Do you smell that?”

I inhale deeply, taking in the scent of trees and damp earth as I look around the quiet space. “I don’t smell—” Then it hits me like a bullet to the chest.Smoke.

A small spark. That’s all it takes for the hood of the car to come alive with bright orange flames. They dance and move like a living, breathing thing as the ground around the car starts to burn.

Isabeau’s booted foot is barely lifted off the ground before I’m disappearing into my own cloud of smoke and reappearing at Remington’s feet.

The sound of her sucking in a surprised breath comes from inside the car as my hands wrap around her ankles and I rip her from the car with a violent force. The second her head is free of the broken window I’m lifting her off the ground like she weighs nothing. The fluid from the car has leaked into the earth all around the car and with each passing second, inch by inch catches fire.

Moving faster than most beings can, I carry her far away from where the flames are roaring. Between some trees a safe distance away, I drop her to the ground. Her arms that had looped around my neck to hold on, move down my chest to grip the fabric of my black shirt as she tries to steady herself. Remi trips over her own feet and my hands fly out to her sides to help balance her.

It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve looked into her eyes, the sensation that washes over my body never grows old. Almost like electricity, my body hums when she lifts her chin, and we lock eyes for the first time tonight. Blood coats her face, her hair is a mess, the delicate skin under her eyes is dark and swelling as black eyes form, but she’s still beautiful. In every state I’ve seen her in, happy, sad, angry, bloody… she’s always beautiful. They’re different kinds of beauty, each one affecting me the same way. Like a hot knife through my heart.

“Are you okay?” The tone I use is reserved solely for her. The softness—tenderness—something I’ve never had a reason to use before. My hand leaves her side to cup her face, my thumb swipes across her swollen bottom lip, clearing it of the blood.

She blinks up at me before her lips pull in a sad smile. “I’m having a pretty rough night.” Her whole face falls before she drops her forehead to my chest in defeat. It appears whatever energy she has left isn’t going to be spent sparring with me tonight.

My arm loops around her waist while my other hand collars the back of her neck. Needing to just stand here and hold her for whatever time we have, I drop my head, resting it against hers. I breathe in her scent, letting it soothe me. My wolf cocks his head, observing this moment with curious eyes. Rage is his constant state, but right now he’s still.Silent.

The silence is a reprieve I didn’t know I needed.

Whatever amount of time we have now was never going to be enough, but it’s cut far too soon when sounds of arriving vehicles fill through the quiet moment. Doors slam and footsteps pound. Panicked voices fill the air as they call for her. Between the trees we are hidden from view of the road.

At the first shout of her name, Remington’s body goes stiff, but she doesn’t yet turn away from me.

“We can pretend we don’t hear them,” I offer, referencing the other night when we pressed pause on everything. I just want another minute. One more minute and maybe I’ll be able to let her go.

Her hands flex on my chest once, then, with a long breath, she pulls away from me. “No more pretending,” she tells me solemnly.

Remi’s eyes scan my face once before pulling away.

I stand and watch her move slowly away from me, her body rigid from whatever pain she’s in and with the anticipation of having to face every one of her family members again. I want to be at her side, facing them together, but that can’t happen.

In Sterling’s eyes, I’m the perfect creation. I’m stronger than any full-blooded shifter and my ability to manipulate hellfire in ways that are rarely done make me powerful. I’m the perfectweapon, but that’s what he wanted. His idea of perfection is something that can wreak havoc on others. He didn’t give a shit that, in reality, I’m like an unstable bomb. At any second, I can detonate and take out anyone close to me before they have time to pull the air they need into their lungs to scream.

I do my best, concentrating so much of my energy on keeping that from happening, but one wrong slip, it’s game over for everyone.

Being at Remington’s side would place her in my blast radius.

This night is slowly but surely becoming the night from hell.

The arrival of my hellhound just solidified that.

Jax has to remain the villain in my head. If I start thinking of him as a hero once more, I’ll end up getting my heart broken again. And I barely survived the last time he broke it.He broke your heart, but yet you still saved him,thevoice in my head reminds me of what I’ve done. As if I need a reminder. Seeing him breathing is reminder enough.

Jax was a hero tonight—my hero. He literally pulled me from the flames. When I was yanked from the car, I thought it was Isabeau, but the second I was lifted from the ground and his body heat mingled with mine, I knew it was him. I didn’t have to look at his face. My body recognizes his like they’ve known each other for multiple lifetimes.

Despite how much he hurt me, or I hurt him, being in his arms still fills my bones with a sense of belonging. The first time he touched me—really touched me—I felt it and to this day, the sensation hasn’t weakened or waned. It’s only gotten stronger despite my best efforts to thwart it.

My whole body aches as I slowly walk up the slight incline of the road’s ditch. Headlights from three cars blind me once my head peeks over the edge. The beams sear my eyes, making the headache I have from the airbag exploding in my face worsen. Wincing, I block as much light as I can with my hand as I make my way toward the crowd of people that now stand over the fiery car.

Winslow spots me first. The little witch is comically tiny standing between all the large male shifters. Her eyes, two different colors, widen, and she bounces on her toes, tugging on Ranger’s jacket to get his attention before darting away from the group. She has a blanket in her hands and once she’s close enough, she throws it around my shoulders. Funny that the girl who was never nurtured by her family has become such a caregiver for the pack. I firmly believe she’s too good for my brother. It is my right as a sister to believe that after all.

“So nurturing andmotherly,” I muse halfheartedly, wrapping the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “Keep this up and you might be the next one knocked up.”

Winnie gasps, appalled. “That’s a terrifying thought.” She pushes on my arm playfully. “So,thanksfor that.”

“All I’m saying is better you than me.” I lift my hands in surrender, chuckling softly under my breath.

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