Page 165 of Watch Me Burn
We walk the short distance between the sanctuary and the main house, our feet crunching on the gravel path. My attention catches on Maren’s SUV parked in the driveway, and the worry that’s become constant background noise surfaces again.
“Have you heard from Cade?”
Damien’s pace slows, but his grip on my hand stays firm and warm, anchoring me to his side. “No. I told you I haven’t.”
“How can you not hear from your COO for days and not worry? Isn’t he supposed to be working?”
“Cade is always working. And he doesn’t need to be micromanaged. Things are getting done. That’s all I care about. Where he does it and with whom is none of my business.”
His evasiveness pisses me off. “He kidnapped my best friend, Damien. That’s damn well your business, because it’s mine. Tell him to bring her back.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know if he has her. Maren is a grown woman. Maybe she decided to take a couple of personal days.”
“Maren wouldn’t blow off work. That’s not her style.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, and I can almost hear him weighing what to tell me.
“If they are together, it’s their business, Luna. Getting in between Maren and Cade isn’t wise.”
“You don’t think Cade would—”
“No.” His voice cuts sharp through the evening air.
But the certainty in his tone doesn’t match the tension in his shoulders. We both know what Cade’s capable of. Things that would terrify most people. The question is whether Damien is right about Maren’s safety.
I want to ask more questions, but we’ve reached the front door.
“Whatever happens when we go in there…” Damien pauses with his hand on the doorknob, and something in his voice makes my pulse skip. “Just remember that I love you.”
I frown at the odd comment. “Why would you—”
The door swings open, and every thought in my head evaporates.
Shadow bounds toward us, almost knocking me backward in his enthusiasm, but it’s what’s tied around his neck that makes me freeze. A red silk ribbon resting against his gray fur, elegant and out of place on my wolf.
Behind him, perched on the back of the sofa like he’s holding court, sits Ricky. In his black hands, he grips an enormous bouquet of deep red dahlias—my favorite flowers, the ones Damien surprises me with regularly now.
“Oh, thank God.” Relief crashes over me so hard I feel dizzy. I drop to my knees to hug Shadow, burying my face in his soft fur, before glaring at my raccoon.
“Ricky, how did you get here?”
He chitters at me, then plucks a fistful of petals from the stems and hurls them in my direction like he’s the offended party.
But even as I’m scolding him, something feels off. The ribbon around Shadow’s neck. The flowers clutched in Ricky’s paws. And the way all three cats are arranged on various pieces of furniture like they’re posing for a photograph. My heart beats faster, but for different reasons now.
Ricky chitters at me again, then proceeds to pluck more dahlia petals and fling them in my direction with impressive accuracy. Each crimson petal hits my hair, my shoulders, and my arms, like he’s showering me with confetti. He looks pleased with himself, proud of his handiwork.
I push to my feet and turn toward Damien, a question forming on my lips, but the words die in my throat.
He’s down on one knee.
My heart stops. Actually stops, then starts again with a thud that echoes in my ears. The room tilts, and I have to press my hand against the wall to stay upright.
“Come here, Shadow.”
My wolf trots over as if they've practiced this. Damien’s fingers work at the ribbon, sliding it free from Shadow’s neck, and something small and brilliant tumbles into his palm. He looks up at me, and the expression on his face steals what little breath I have left.
“Luna.”
