Page 15 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
Found matching artifact in S1's office. Investigating further.
The message shoots off into the void. A moment later, the reply flashes back with signature speed:
EMBER: Maintain cover. Get closer to S1.
I stare at the screen for a full ten seconds before closing the app. The words feel heavier than they should. Get closer. I tuck the burner into the hidden compartment in my duffel. It’s shallow and dark, but it’ll continue to keep my secrets. For now.
Get closer.
That phrase coils in my gut like smoke.
Seduce the suspect? It wouldn’t be the first time the Bureau pulled that trick. Hell, I’d volunteered for it before. But something about this feels different. Noah isn’t just another file folder with a rap sheet. He’s fire and stone and secrets I want to unravel. And maybe, just maybe, I want him to see me too. The real me.
Which is exactly why I don’t want to get too close.
I flop onto my back with a groan, staring at the ceiling until my vision blurs. Tomorrow I’ll face him again. And this time, I’ll have to get closer.
But not too close.
Never too close.
The call comes in just after dawn. Our first real fire.
“Wildfire jump, south ridge. All crews on deck.”
Captain Greene’s voice crackles over the intercom like gravel in a blender. The cot jerks beneath me as I bolt upright,adrenaline already priming my veins. I throw on my turnouts in record time and join the others barreling out of the bunkroom.
Outside, the smoke’s already painting the sky a bruised orange. Heat pulses off the horizon in visible waves. My pulse doubles when I see Noah striding toward us, helmet under one arm, eyes scanning the crew like a hawk sizing up prey.
“Pair off!” he calls. “You’re with me, Knowles.”
A chill slides down my spine despite the rising heat.
“Copy,” I say, too fast, too neutral.
He doesn’t blink. Just turns and leads the way to the engine. I follow, nerves bunching in my stomach like a coiled rope. Why me? Why couldn't he have chosen one of the other probies? This feels…intentional.
Inside the rig, it’s too quiet. The other pairs are already rattling off strategy and checklists, but Noah’s silence is heavier than the gear on my back.
I watch the smoke crawling up the ridgeline like it knows we’re coming. Part of me wants to let the fire have its way—burn it all down and be done. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to stop it.
I can feel my heartbeat syncing with the sirens. The heat is amplifying my own internal fire, and the danger is intensifying. How will I keep my magic from Noah with him so close? Even as I confess my fears to my subconscious, a part of me wishes he knew everything.
He finally glances at me. “You good?”
“Always,” I say, forcing a smirk.
He nods once, like he doesn’t quite believe me. Can’t say I blame him. I don’t quite believe me. I've got too much on the line...showcasing my fire skills without losing control of my magic and keeping Noah Benson off my tail. Nope, just another day on the job.
This close, the scent of cedar and smoke that clings to him is distracting. Maddening. I keep my hands on my lap and my eyes on the windshield.
Focus, Sera. Mission.
You’re not here to fall for the suspect.
You’re here to catch a killer.
The fire is already snarling by the time we hit the ridge—orange tongues devouring dry brush, black smoke coiling like fists into the sky. My heart hammers as I jump down from the rig and follow Noah into the chaos, the wind tugging at my gear like it wants to drag me into the inferno.
