AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It was stupidly unfair.
I threw an arm over my tits, growling, “Where the hell did you put my clothes?”
“In the box.” His eyes lingered on my skin for a long moment before he turned back to whatever he was washing. The food he had cooking smelled incredible, not that I wanted to admit it.
I stomped over to the box, pulling out my fireproof underwear and quickly tugging them on. Priel’s admittedly-comfortable pants remained on the ground as I bent over, digging through the smallish box.
Where was my shirt? My pants? I needed those, badly.
“Where did you put myactual clothes?” I snapped at the hellhound in the kitchen.
“The shirt and pants? They’re ash.”
I waited for the apology.
For the promise that he’d get me new shit.
The nonchalant mention that he had a change of clothes for me ready right that minute.
None of those things came.
The bastard even started whistling as he continued washing whatever the hell had his complete attention.
“I can’t leave like this,” I finally snarled at the man.
“No,” he agreed. “You’ll have to shift so we can run back to the Stronghold without letting anyone see your brands. The way our scents have intertwined should buy us a few weeks, at least.”
“So I have to learn how to shift—something I don’t want to do—becauseyoucouldn’t stop yourself from burningmyclothes?”
“You have to learn how to shift so that you’re not consumed by your inner fire,” he said bluntly, without turning around. “And I wouldn’t have needed to burn your clothes if you hadn’t decided to kiss one of my packmates.”
“Why would you care? You’ve never wanted me.” I stood up, my fists clenching at my sides as fire throbbed in my abdomen, my magic still desperate to make an appearance.
He finally turned around, and I saw what he’d been scrubbing.
A paintbrush I’d left in a cup of water.
They worked the same after being left in paint-water for ages, but they did stain a bit thanks to the nature of Vevol’s version of paint. And the bastard clearly had a problem with stains.
His eyes narrowed at me. “Notwantingyou and notclaimingyou are two entirely different things. I’ve wanted you since the first moment I caught your scent.”
I scoffed, the magic in my abdomen pulsing so hotly it physically hurt to keep it under control. “Don’t lie to me.”
His eyes burned for a moment, before the fire faded.
The paintbrush met the counter, and he stalked across the room. I stood my ground, not sure I could control my magic and move at the same time. It was pulsating more intensely than it ever had before, and I was starting to think I might not be able to get it back under control.
His hand pressed to the bare skin on my abdomen, left exposed by my tank top, and my fire pulsed in response. My fists were clenched so tight they hurt.
His voice was low and gentle when he spoke, surprising me with his lack of anger. “Don’t do this; don’t fight your magic. Holding back your anger or your flames disrupts your energy. Should it break through, it’ll force a shift and you’ll be trapped in your other form for days, if not weeks.”
“January never said that,” I told him through gritted teeth.
“January isn’t a hound. Dragons and phoenixes have fire; you and Iarefire.”
“Then what do I do?” My voice bordered on desperate.
I’d never felt my magic this close to taking over before.
