Page 39 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
He steps back, blinking hard, and Jamie rises, sniffling into her sleeve. She’s holding a paper folded three times.
“Nicole was my best friend,” Jamie begins. “And the best partner I ever pulled hose with. She used to sing old ‘80s rock under her breath when we cleaned the gear. Called herself the Firehouse Diva.”
A watery smile.
“She believed in people. Even the broken ones. Especially the broken ones.”
She folds the paper and sits again, unable to go on.
Silence falls. No one stirs.
At last, Sera steps forward.
Noah shoots her a glance of concern, but says nothing.
She doesn’t go to the podium. Just stands beside the casket and places a single matchbook on top.
“Nicole’s spirit is still with us,” Sera says, as if she's staring at her ghost. Her voice is clear, almost too calm, as if she sees something that the rest of us don’t. “Her spark is still alive. It’s hiding. Waiting. And it will burn again when the time is right.”
The hairs on my arms rise.
“Nicole, we will find who did this to you,” Sera adds. “And they’ll learn what happens when they play with fire.”
There’s a hum in the air. Subtle, electric.
Even the trees seem to lean closer.
The pastor clears his throat, gently redirecting the service. But the damage is done.
The firehouse crew shuffles into the night, unsettled.
And the forest listens.
Chapter thirteen
Scent of a Witch
SERA
Ibarely make it back to my dorm without collapsing. So grateful to be in the bigger bed and not on duty in the bunkhouse tonight.
My legs ache, my head’s a tangle of smoke and adrenaline, and my heart refuses to settle after everything that’s happened. The words of Marcus and Jamie echo in my ears.
What made me speak up when I was supposed to stay in the shadows? Was it the heat of the moment or was it the guilt clawing at my insides, knowing I had a truth they didn’t, a truth I could no longer keep buried? Someone had to say something, right? And there are things that I can see and hear that otherscan’t. I thought it might help them to know. It didn’t. And now I’m kicking myself for my stupidity.
I could tell Noah wasn’t pleased with my choice, but no matter. He should be happy I’m staying put at night. Even when I need to get out. I need to do more. I need to find evidence that can put this nightmare to an end.
And Noah…the last time we had a real conversation. His words—firm, protective, maddening. And the vision I saw of him. What does it all mean? Every day brings us closer to an outcome we can’t control. Call it fate if you like, but it feels more like an omen.
The moment I kick my boots off, I’m ready to crawl under the sheets and forget the world exists.
Then my burner phone vibrates.
Two words. One name.
“Let’s meet.”—Ember
I stare at the screen like it's cursed—like the name itself might burn into my retinas if I blink. My throat tightens, and a cold prickle slides down my spine. This is the message I’ve dreaded, the summons I can’t ignore. The timing couldn’t be worse, but Ember doesn’t ask twice. If they say “meet,” I go.
