Page 11 of Shifting Hearts 1
I whip around, my eyes wide. He was just on the bed but he’s standing now, his body tense, his hair falling wild around his face, his storm-grey eyes burning into mine.
“Then why pull away?” My voice cracks, too raw. “Why look at me like touching me is a mistake?”
His nostrils flare. “Because it is. Because once I start, I won’t stop. And you’ve already been broken by one man who couldn’t handle you. I won’t be the next.”
My chest heaves. Anger and hurt tangle, a storm too big to hold in. “Stop deciding for me!” The words rip out, sharper than I expect. “First Gabriel, now you! You both think you get to choose what I can or can’t handle. Maybe I’m stronger than you think.”
His expression flickers, but he doesn’t back down. He steps closer, heat radiating off him, his voice dropping to a growl. “Strong? You nearly died in my arms, Paris. Do you think I didn’t feel it? The bond tearing at me while you bled all over my shirt? If I claim you now, I’ll ruin you.”
The air between us crackles. My heart pounds, my body caught between fury and the traitorous urge to close the last inch between us.
I shove the quilt aside and push to my feet, swaying, but refusing to back down. My legs tremble, but the fire in my chest keeps me standing. “You don’t get to tell me what will ruin me. Fate already tried. Gabriel already did. If this bond is real, if it’s my second chance, then I should get a say in it.”
For a moment, we just breathe each other in. His chest rises and falls, muscles taut, eyes dark. I can see it, the fight inside him, the beast clawing to break free.
Then he exhales hard, dragging a hand through his hair, stepping back like he needs the distance to breathe. “You don’t understand. You still believe in the Goddess. In fate. I don’t. Not anymore.”
His words hit me like a slap. My throat tightens, the fight draining out of me as fast as it came. I sink back to the bed, staring at my thighs as I twist the fabric of his t-shirt in my hands.
“Then maybe we’re both fools,” I whisper.
The fire pops in the silence that follows. His breathing slows, but his eyes never leave me.
Finally, he mutters, “You need food.”
It’s such a jarring shift I blink. “Food?”
“Yeah.” He’s already moving toward the stove, grabbing a cast-iron pot, tossing wood into the firebox. “You’re weak. You need something in your stomach.”
I almost laugh. We’ve just torn into each other with words sharp enough to draw blood, and now he’s cooking.
But as the scent of venison and herbs fill the cabin, something in me softens. He moves with quiet efficiency, every motion controlled, his broad back turned to me like the argument didn’t just strip us bare.
He ladles stew into a bowl and brings it to me, setting it on the little table by the bed. “Eat.”
His tone is gruff, almost rude. But when my hands tremble lifting the spoon, he notices. He kneels beside me, steadying the bowl, his big, scarred hand brushing mine.
The bond hums, sharp and sweet, making me flush.
I eat in silence, every bite grounding me, every accidental graze of his fingers setting me on fire. He doesn’t look at me, and he doesn’t speak, but his presence fills the room so completely it’s hard to breathe.
When the bowl is empty, he takes it from me, rising without a word. I watch his shoulders tense as he sets it down, like even this simple act costs him something. The fight is over, but the tension isn’t. It simmers between us, hot and dangerous, waiting for the next spark.
And I know with a sinking, terrifying certainty, this is only the beginning.
SIX
The Weight of Fate
Ranger
Ican’t stop hearing her voice.Stop deciding for me.
It cuts deeper than claws ever could. Deeper than Maddox’s fists, deeper than my father’s silence and disapproval when I walked away.
She doesn’t know it, but she’s right. I am deciding for her. Every second I’m here, every time I pull back when all I want is to give in—I’m choosing for her.
I tell myself it’s because she’s fragile. Because she needs to heal. Because if I touch her, I’ll lose control. But the truth? The truth is much simpler and uglier than that.
