Page 16 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
“Stay close,” he says, clipped, calm—and commanding. “This terrain’s unpredictable. We’ll flank the western edge and stop it from jumping the line.”
I nod, my mouth dry. I can feel the heat gathering ahead—throbbing like a living thing. The magic inside me stirs, uneasy.
We move in sync, Noah pointing, calling out directions. I respond without hesitation, muscle memory and training kicking in. He moves like he was born in fire, and I do my best to match his pace. But the closer I get to him, the harder it becomes to keep it all in check.
Then, it happens–fast and wrong.
A crack. A gust. And flames leap up on the other side of us, a backdraft igniting dry underbrush in a sudden, brutal flare. It doesn’t make any sense. Not unless…
My gut drops.
Oh no.
I lost control.
Panic wells before I can stop it. I spin toward the flames, heart pounding.
Noah’s voice cuts through the roar. “Sera! Focus!”
He doesn’t know. He can’t know.
I close my eyes for a split second, center myself. Think. Fire needs oxygen. I don’t need a spell. I need will.
I picture a break in the flame, visualize a wall of earth and wind driving a wedge through the heart of the fire. My pulse thrums as something inside me shifts.
A wind gusts hard from the west. The fire stutters.
I make a gentle parting motion with my hands, and a space opens—cool air rushing in with a soft hiss, like the forest itself holding its breath. It prickles along my arms, tugging at the hairs on my neck. Unnatural, yes—but undeniably effective. A firebreak.
Noah stares. He doesn’t speak.
I remember Tori’s wise words: *You don’t control fire by fighting it. You ride it. You guide it. *I didn’t believe her—until now.
Together, we douse the edges, pushing back the blaze with water and grit until it's finally contained.
He turns and walks away.
My knees nearly give out.
He saw. Now what?
During the hike back to the truck, the silence is oppressive.
As we board the firetruck, he glances my way and finally speaks. “Good work, probie.”
He steps away, but something lingers between us.
Heat.
Not just the fire’s leftovers, but something magnetic. Unresolved.
He looks back over his shoulder. Our eyes meet. I expect accusation. But all I see is... curiosity and could it be an element of protectiveness?
Then he turns. Gone Just like that.
I have no idea what to make of him, nor how in the hell to break through this wall of a man.
After cleanup and debrief, I peel off my gear and make my way to the infirmary. The adrenaline’s worn off, leaving behind a bone-deep fatigue. Tori’s already there, sorting through medical supplies like it’s her version of therapy.
