Page 52 of Fired at the Heart

Right now, they’re molten gold in the dusty sunlight.

Every step I take toward him feels like walking through quicksand. My body remembers the pull of his, the way we’ve always been drawn together like gravity. The ache in my chest spreads, turning sharper, more insistent.

My Omega instinct is fighting the plan to hurt my Alpha, nothing more. Can’t be more.

As I reach for the case, Raphael’s free hand wraps around my wrist, his touch electric, the tingles from his fingers fending off the creeping cold. “You promised we’d talk.”

The warehouse falls away, the concrete floor, the steel rafters, even Lena and Ezra watching from their respective positions all vanish. There’s only Raphael’s eyes, Raphael’s scent, Raphael’s heat radiating through his tailored suit.

“I’ve missed you.” His thumb traces small circles on the inside of my wrist. “Every day, I’ve missed you, and now that I’ve had you back in my arms, I refuse to let you go again.”

My heart hammers to escape, to leap from my chest into his waiting hands. I want to tell him I haven’t missed him at all, but I can’t bring myself to lie. Not today. “You’ve known where to find me. You never bothered.”

“I was waiting for you to come to me.” Raphael tugs on my wrist, drawing me closer until less than a foot separates us.

He sets the suitcase on the ground, as unimportant to him as it is to me. A prop we use to give us a final excuse to exist in each other’s presence.

“I underestimated your stubbornness.” His pheromones envelop me, and my body recognizes them on a molecular level, my instincts responding to his proximity, my Omega nature stirring despite my attempts to suppress it.

The bond we share flares to life, dormant but never severed.

“Raphael,” I whisper, a warning and a plea.

“Five years without you has been hell.” Emotion roughens his voice. “Coming home to an empty bed. Waking up reaching for you. Seeing something incredible and turning to share it with someone who isn’t there.”

His words pierce me, each one finding its mark. We’ve lived the same hell of his choosing.

“You left me,” I remind him, but without any heat to my accusation. Just the dull ache of an old wound.

“I made a mistake.” His hand travels up my arm, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “The biggest mistake of my life.”

His fingers brush my cheek, and my breath catches. I should pull away. I should remember why I’m here. Instead, I lean into his palm like a flower seeking sunlight.

“What are you saying?” I ask, my pulse throbbing in my throat, in my wrists, in my hips.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I don’t have to go through with this.

“I’m saying I want you back.” Raphael leans closer until his breath warms my lips. “By my side. Where you belong.”

He tugs me forward, closing the final distance between us, and presses his mouth to mine.

The kiss shatters the wall around my heart, flooding me with longing and regret before the sweep of his tongue turns all my thoughts to smoke.

My arms rise of their own accord, wrapping around his neck, and my fingers tangle in his golden-brown hair. His body presses forward, solid and warm, and the contact draws a small sound from my throat that I can’t suppress.

Raphael deepens the kiss, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other slides down to the small of my back, pulling me flush to him. I open for him, surrendering to his tongue stroking mine, the faint scratch of stubble on my skin, and the hardness of his desire nudging my lower stomach.

My mind fractures into contradictions. I hate him. I love him. I want to hurt him. I want to heal him. I need to leave him. I need to stay.

When we break apart, my breathing comes hard, my lips tingling. Raphael’s pupils dilate with desire, and he keeps me close, our foreheads touching, sharing breath in the space between us.

“You feel it, too. It’s why you chose this location, right? To remind me of us together?” he whispers, not knowing how right and yet how wrong his assumption is. “This thing between us will never die.”

I close my eyes, unable to look at him and maintain my resolve. “It’s not enough.”

“It can be.” His lips brush my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth. “Let me show you.”

He cups my jaw, thumbs stroking my cheekbones. “We’re better together. We always have been. We balance each other. Your fire and my calculation. Your instincts and my connections.”

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