Page 16 of Sun's Roar

“Faster,” Sol commanded, his knuckles white as he gripped Joshua’s headrest.

Joshua swerved around a taxi. “Any more ‘faster’ and we’ll need to explain to local authorities why we’re breaking every traffic law in the city right now.”

“I don’t give a damn about—“ Sol’s words died as they rounded the corner onto the restaurant’s street.

Orange flames licked the early evening sky, illuminating a crowd of shell-shocked onlookers. The building that housed Helena’s beloved kitchen was engulfed. Black smoke billowed upward, choking the air.

Sol didn’t wait for the SUV to stop. He flung the door open and hit the pavement at a run, scanning the crowd frantically for a flash of red hair.

“She’s not here,” he muttered, pushing through the gathered staff members. His nostrils flared, sorting through the acrid smells of smoke and fear, searching for Helena’s distinctive cinnamon-and-vanilla scent. “She’s still inside!”

Joshua caught up to him, grabbing his arm. “Sol, wait?—“

Sol shook him off. “I can feel her. She’s in there, and she’s fading.”

Her emotions had shifted from panic to something more disturbing—a dreamy detachment that told him she was losing consciousness.

“Let the firefighters handle this,” Mitesh advised, appearing at his other side.

“She’s my Luna. I’m not standing here while she burns!” Sol roared.

A firefighter attempted to block his path. “Sir, you can’t go in there?—“

Sol fixed him with a stare that made the man step back instinctively. “Try to stop me.”

He approached the entrance, heat blasting his face as the flames reached hungrily toward him. For a moment, he stood at the threshold, letting his wolf’s senses map the building’s interior through the smoke and chaos.

“Hold this position,” he instructed Joshua. “If I’m not out in five minutes?—“

“We’re coming in after you,” Joshua finished.

Sol nodded once, then plunged into the inferno to find his mate. The world around Sol instantly transformed into an orange-red hellscape. The flames licked at him but he barely registered the heat or got burned for some strange reason. Was her fire responding to him? Protecting him because he was her mate?

“Helena!” he shouted over the crackle and pop of burning wood.

No response but the groan of weakening support beams. Sol pushed deeper, instinctively dropping to a crouch where the air was clearer. His wolf surged close to his skin, lending him its superior senses. He inhaled deeply, filtering through the smoke to catch Helena’s distinct scent—that intoxicating blend of cinnamon, vanilla, and something uniquely her.

There. Faint but present. Coming from the back.

Sol vaulted over a fallen beam, landing with preternatural grace. The kitchen. Of course, she would be here. The bond between them pulsed faintly.

“Mine,” he growled, the word escaping unbidden as he shoulder-checked doors that had warped in their frame.

The kitchen was a disaster zone. Equipment melted and surfaces blackened. And there—slumped on the tiled floor—was Helena. Her vibrant red hair spilled across her pale face, and her chef’s coat was smudged with soot. Even unconscious, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Sol was at her side in an instant, one hand cradling her face. “I’ve got you now.”

He checked her pulse—steady but faint. The bond between them hummed with her dormant energy, unnervingly quiet but still present. Relief crashed through him with such force, he nearly staggered.

A section of ceiling tiles crashed down nearby, showering them with embers. No more time. Sol scooped Helena into his arms, cradling her against his chest like the precious treasure she was. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and the protective surge that ripped through him was nearly overwhelming.

“Nobody’s taking you from me,” he murmured against her temple. “Not fire, not fate, not anyone.”

Sol navigated the burning labyrinth with unerring precision, his wolf’s memory having mapped every inch of the path in. The main dining room was now fully engulfed, forcing him to kick open a side door that led to an alley. Fresh air hit him like a blessing, and he drew in deep lungfuls as he carried Helena toward the street.

As he emerged into view, backlit by flames, some of the gathered onlookers cheered. Sol paid them no mind, his focus entirely on the woman in his arms, checking over her again. Her breathing was shallow, but color was returning to her face as she took in the fresh oxygen.

That’s when he caught it—a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. Sol’s head snapped around, his hunter’s gaze locking onto a figure slinking away at the edge of the gathered crowd.

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