Page 78 of Flare
Pain lanced through Andrew’s jaw as it elongated. His expensive leather jacket strained across his broadening shoulders. Bones cracked and reshaped themselves while muscles tore and reformed beneath his skin. He bit down on his own tongue to keep from screaming, tasting blood as his teeth sharpened into points.
Control. He needed control.
With a monumental effort of will, Andrew pushed back against his bear’s fury. He couldn’t afford a full shift, not here in the open, not with what he needed to do. He’d spent years mastering his bear, bending the animal to his will. He wouldn’t lose that mastery now.
The transformation halted, leaving him in a halfway state. His body was still mostly human, but covered in patches of golden-brown fur. His hands were distorted into powerful half-paws, tipped with lethal claws.
In this half-shifted form, Andrew’s senses were heightened even further. He could hear Emily moving inside the house—the soft pad of her footsteps on the wooden floor, the quiet humming of a song he didn’t recognize. The sound sent fresh waves of betrayal crashing through him.
She was humming. Happy. While he had been heartbroken and suffering the loss of his mate, she’d been fucking another man and humming cheerful tunes.
The realization stoked his rage even further until he thought he might burst into flames where he stood.
Mine, his bear snarled.MINE!
For once, Andrew was in perfect agreement with his animal side. Emily Clarke belonged to him. She’d accepted his ring and his mate bond. She was his to control. His to command. And his to punish when necessary.
And punishment was very necessary now.
Andrew ran his tongue over his elongated teeth, tasting the promise of violence. He would teach Emily what it meant to betray her mate.
And then, when Ward returned, Andrew would deal with him too.
The world had narrowed to these simple, brutal objectives. Nothing else mattered anymore—not his dignity, not the Brunborn family name, not even the risk of exposure and arrest.
Her betrayal had stripped away his human civility, leaving only the raw, possessive fury of a bear whose territory had been invaded and whose mate had been stolen.
With the silent stalk of a predator, Andrew approached the back door of Ward’s house. His clawed fingers curled around the doorknob, testing it. Unlocked, as he’d expected.
It was time to take back what was his, and to teach Emily a lesson about the consequences of cleaving to any man but her true mate.
∞∞∞
Ward’s boots hit the gravel with a crunch as he leaped from his truck, heart hammering against his ribs. The distinctive smellof gasoline mixed with burning wood hung in the air. He knew instantly that this was no accident.
“Ward!” Maggie’s voice cut through the din of slamming truck doors and shouted commands. His cousin jogged toward him, already suited up in her turnout gear.“Chief wants the fire on the west wall knocked down first. It’s closest to a bunch of equipment.”
He nodded, yanking his helmet into place as he surveyed the scene. All four of the barn’s walls were ablaze, the flames greedily devouring century-old weathered wood. The sheer waste offended his carpenter’s heart.
His uncle Dane was directing two other volunteers to unroll hoses from the tanker truck, while Maggie’s brother Matt worked the pump controls.
“Someone really wanted this barn gone,” Ward muttered as he and Maggie dragged a heavy hose.
“Yeah,” Maggie agreed, her face grim beneath her helmet.“And I’m betting those fires weren’t set by some teenager with matches.”
“Charge the line!” Dad shouted.
Moments later, the hose in Ward’s hands stiffened as water surged through it. He wrestled the nozzle into position. It was hard work even for someone with shifter strength.
His muscles strained against the powerful kickback as water hammered into the flames. Sweat instantly beaded on his forehead despite the morning chill. Beside him, Maggie braced the hose, her boots digging into the dirt for leverage.
The fire hissed and sputtered as water struck it, sending up clouds of steam that momentarily obscured their vision. When the air cleared, Ward could see blackened fuel soaks and what looked like melted remnants of plastic gas cans scattered among the charred grass.
The vibration against his hip nearly made him lose his grip on the hose. With one hand still holding the nozzle, Ward awkwardly fished his phone from his pocket.
The screen showed an alert from his home security system—motion detected at the back door. He tapped the notification with his thumb, bringing up the live feed from the camera he’d installed after Emily moved in.
What he saw turned his blood to ice.
