Page 96 of Shifting Hearts 1
She snorts, roiling her eyes. “No kidding. You made that crystal clear last time.”
“I’m tracking a rogue,” I continue, ignoring her jab. “Someone who crossed into my territory and murdered an Alpha. Their scent led me here.”
“And you think I had something to do with it?” She raises a brow as her aura flares in irritation. She tilts her head, mock-innocent. “How flattering.”
“Don’t play games with me, Emilia.”
Something flickers in her gaze. First hurt, then anger. Lastly nothing, her mask of indifference sliding into place.
“I don’t play anymore,” she says flatly. “I survive.”
I don’t reply and neither of us moves. The silence stretches until it’s a noose strangling me.
Finally, she speaks again, her voice low. It’s so soft I almost miss it. “I won’t ask if you’re staying.” Pain radiates from her and for a moment I almost crack. Almost.
“I’m not.”
She nods once. “Then don’t refuse me again.”
The words slam into me like a blade. “What?”
“You heard me.” Her voice tightens. “You already rejected me once. I’m not asking you to accept the bond. I’m not stupid. But if you plan to leave, don’t reject me again. I don’t know if I’d survive it again.”
My chest aches. A strange, raw twist I don’t want to examine. I would rather just keeping ignoring it like I have for the past ten years.
She doesn’t wait for an answer just crosses her arms and says, “I’ll help you find your murderer. You get your justice. I get my peace. Deal?”
I want to say no. I want to walk – no, run – away from her and this fucking place. But the rogue is here, and I need someone who knows this town, and the shadows that hide underneath it.
Against my better judgement I nod once. “Deal.”
She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. And for the first time in years, I feel the weight of a promise I might regret keeping.
THREE
The Second First Meeting
Emilia
The worst part isn’t that he’s back. No, it’s that I still want him.
The bond stretches between us like a wire wrapped around my throat, tightening with every breath he takes in my space. And he takes upa lotof space. Even when he isn’t speaking, his presence fills every corner of the room. He’s too big, too loud, too familiar.
I hate that I remember how his voice sounded when he told me I wasn’t enough. I hate that my body remembers him even more than my heart does. And Ihatethat I agreed to help him.
But what choice do I have? I’d rather walk through fire than let him reject me again. One refusal shattered me. A second might kill what little of me is left.
At least if we catch this killer quickly, he’ll be gone just as fast. At least I hope he will leave as quickly as he appeared. And then maybe… just maybe I can breathe again.
Lucian’s eyes flick around the shop like he’s cataloging every threat. His posture is loose, but I know better. It’s calculated. Coiled and ready to strike. He was always like that, lethal even when silent. But now? There’s something darker behind his eyes. Like he’s done more than just survive. Like he’s become the monster he once hunted.
“You got anything yet?” he asks, voice low, gravel-laced.
“I just agreed to help you five minutes ago.” I hate being pushed.
His jaw flexes and I know I’m pushing his buttons. Fuck him though. He needs my help.
“Well, unless you want me to ask the cards how to find a murderer, you’ll have to give me more than ‘someone died and it smelled funny.’”
