Page 4 of Burned By My Mate

“We can talk to her,” Tucker says, and my bear and I stiffen at the thought.

For some reason, we want to handle the curvy little redhead.

“I can talk to her,” I grumble, and Harris clears his throat.

“Uh, it might be better for them to, boss. You don’t seem to have built much of a rapport with her,” he says carefully, and I growl at him.

“I can handle it,” I assure him.

I turn and stomp off back to the front of the house, where the girl is still standing, staring in horror at her burnt house.

Shit,I think, and my bear snorts.

She looks devastated. How could you think that she would burn the place down?

Shut up,I snap at him, and he sighs.

I march over to her, my boots crunching against the gravel.

“Are you okay?”

“Dandy,” she grits out at me, and I wince at my dumb question.

“I mean, are you hurt?”

“No.”

I nod and turn to head back to check on my guys, and that’s when her scent hits me like a wrecking ball—vanilla and something warmer, somethinghers. It knocks the air from my lungs, my bearsnarling inside mein immediate recognition.

MATE.

The realization slams into me with the force of a sledgehammer.

Fuck.

I just manhandled myfated mate and accused her of being an idiot, and now she’s looking at me like she wishes I’d burst into flames right along with her house.

This isnothow I was supposed to meet her.

My bear roars in my head, pissed as hell.

Fix this. Fix this now.

How?I snap at him. I accused her of being an arsonist!

She’s not, though.

She’s atarget,we both think at the same time, and I growl.

No one is going to hurt my mate.

My stomach knots, my bear on high alert. If someone torched her house, then she’s in danger.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” I ask, my voice quieter now.

She swallows hard, lifting her chin. “I’ll figure something out.”

I don’t like that answer. Not one damn bit.

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