Page 51 of Shifting the Flame

His heart stuttered as he unfolded it, her familiar scent rising from the paper.

Asher, I didn't want to ever leave you. But I know you did the right thing by sending me to New Orleans while you grieve your beloved council member Garron.

I never wanted to make things harder for you, only better, because you deserve everything. I know you don’t believe I could hurt anyone—and I’m grateful for that.

But right now, your town doesn’t want me as your mate. They see me as a mistake and a threat to your perfect community. And I won’t be the reason your leadership is questioned, or the reason your town fractures.

With each line, his grip tightened on the paper until his knuckles whitened. The words blurred as something hot and unfamiliar pricked behind his eyes.

I came here to help you, and now someone is dead. Whether I’m found guilty or not, I’ve become the center of something I don’t fully understand yet, and that terrifies me.

You’ve always protected your people without question. Now I have to do the same for you—by walking away from us and what we have, no matter how perfect it is. Just know, I care about you more than I can explain. Maybe that’s why I’m doing this. —Danica

"No." The word escaped him as a broken whisper. "No, damn it!"

The bottle slipped from his fingers, bourbon pooling on the hardwood. He barely noticed.

She was leaving him. Not because she was afraid for herself, but to protect him. To protect his position.

His first instinct was to shift, to fly to New Orleans faster than any car could take him, and to find her and bring her home where she belonged.

His fingers were already fumbling for his phone when a colder, more rational voice whispered through his mind. What if she's safer away from him?

Dragon politics were lethal. Someone had killed Garron and framed Danica with practiced precision. That someone wanted him weakened and isolated from his mate. And as long as Danica remained tied to him, she'd be a target.

Asher sank to his knees beside the bed, crushing her note against his chest. The dragon inside him keened with loss.

"What kind of protector am I," he whispered into the darkness, "if I can't even keep her safe in my own town?"

For the first time since his father died, Asher Ectorius, Alpha of the Ectorius dragon clutch, wept uncontrollably.

TWENTY

DANICA

Danica stared at her reflection in the steamed-up mirror of her apartment bathroom, barely recognizing the woman who gazed back at her. Just twelve hours ago, she'd been radiant in her crimson silk dress that hugged every curve, her hair falling in glossy waves past her shoulders, and her lips painted the exact shade of red. The woman who'd danced under the stars with Asher Ectorius, feeling for once like she truly belonged somewhere.

That woman was gone now.

She wiped a hand across the foggy glass, revealing puffy eyes rimmed with smeared mascara she hadn't bothered to remove last night. Her skin was blotchy and pale, and her hair was yanked back in a messy ponytail.

"So this is what rock bottom looks like," she muttered, tugging at the neck of her oversized Tulane University sweatshirt. "Six days ago, I was planning a children's birthday party for a man who didn't remember my name, and now I'm a suspected dragon murderer."

Her laughter sounded hollow against the bathroom tiles.

From the living room, her phone chimed with another email notification. Probably another potential client reaching out afterChad Thompson's Instagram post had gone viral. The irony wasn't lost on her—her career was finally taking off just as her personal life imploded.

Danica shuffled into the living room, nearly tripping over a mountain of crumpled tissues. She'd gone through an entire box since returning home last night, her tears seemingly endless. Her eyes caught on a photo frame beside her laptop—her and three friends from college, arms linked, smiling broadly at the camera.

"What would you all think of me now?" she whispered, running a finger over the glass. "Danica Ulrich, party planner extraordinaire, accused murderer, and heartsick over an actual dragon."

She sank onto her plush white sofa and opened her laptop, determined to distract herself with work. The screen illuminated with forty-seven unread emails, each one a potential opportunity that should have thrilled her.

Instead, she clicked on a blank document and stared at the cursor blinking like a heartbeat.

"Goddamn it all." She slammed the laptop shut. "Why?"

Danica pushed herself up and paced the length of her stylish apartment, the space suddenly feeling like a cage despite its trendy decor and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the French Quarter. Outside her apartment building, Hunter, one of Asher's clutch members, was watching somewhere on the street below—making sure she stayed put until her hearing.

---