Page 64 of Burning Embers
Before Michelle and her brother, I never felt such anger and aggression. Yeah, I may have been a little bit of an asshole, but I never started fights for no reason, nor did I ever imagine hurting my brothers.
Now, that’s all I can think about.
And these fuck faces thought it would be a good idea to introduce me to my mate? What the fucking hell were they thinking?
Izzy…
I’ve never given much thought to what I wanted my future mate to look like, but even I have to admit that Izzy is more perfect than I could’ve ever imagined. She’s fucking gorgeous, with golden hair I ache to run my hands through, porcelain skin, and a heart-stopping smile. Even when she’s snapping at me and calling me an asshole, she’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful, it actually hurts.
But it doesn’t matter. We can never be together. Not when I’m…me. The new me. The me Michelle and her brother cursed me to become.
Rage builds inside of me, white-hot and scalding, and I twist my body so I don’t accidentally take any of my ill-founded anger out on my brothers. I ram my fist into the locker hard enough to dent it and then stand there breathing heavily, my chest heaving.
Ashton takes a step closer, appearing in my periphery, and arches one elegant eyebrow. “Are you done with your temper tantrum yet?”
A growl reverberates through my chest. I don’t know if it’s me making that sound…or my caged wolf. “Fuck off.”
Ashton merely flicks a piece of imaginary lint off his shoulder. “Can we please have a civil conversation without you…decimating school property?” His nose wrinkles in obvious distaste.
I sometimes wonder how I ever became friends with Ashton in the first place. We’ve always been so different from each other, even before the curse. He’s meticulously clean; I’m sloppy. He prefers suits and ties; I wear T-shirts and jeans. He’s currently the running back on the football team; I used to be the tight end. He handles any and all confrontations with blackmail and deceit; I solve my problems with my fists.
Yet here we are, years later, tied together by a primordial bond that the world can’t even begin to comprehend.
I spin around and lean against the lockers, folding my arms over my chest. I try to mask my expression, to make it as impassive as Ashton’s, but my perpetual scowl remains firmly in place.
“So we all agree, right? Izzy’s our Heart, our mate.” Ethan smiles broadly, either oblivious or choosing to ignore the bloated storm cloud hovering over us all, threatening torrents of rainfall. He actually sounds downright cheerful, which is completely ridiculous.
Fuck, a mate…
Mymate…
Fear slides up my spine and knots in my throat.
I wanted a mate so fucking badly only a year ago—which is how everything went to shit in the first place—yet I feel nothing but horror now.
How can a woman like Izzy ever love or even care for a beast like me? I’m disgusting, both physically and even mentally. She tried to hide it, but I saw the way she flinched when I sat down beside her, her eyes churning with fear. Fear…and disgust.
And what if I lose my temper one of the times I’m around her? What if I accidentally hurt her?
Fuck.
“I can’t be the only one who believes her timing is a little…convenient,” Ashton murmurs, scratching at the stubble on his chin.
Ethan’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Not everything is a fucking conspiracy, Ashton,” Emery adds with a dramatic eye roll.
“You're telling me that you didn’t notice Desiree and even Mimi cozying up to her?” Ashton counters with a look that suggests he thinks Emery’s an idiot.
My stomach pitches. “Desiree and Mimi?”
The two of them have been sniffing around our pack for years now. And with everything going on with Desiree and her father…
“Desiree touched her and began acting really weird,” Ethan confesses. He heaves out a breath and shifts his weight. “But Desiree’s strangeness has nothing to do with Izzy.”
He sounds almost defensive, as if he honestly believes we’re going to storm into Izzy’s sixth period class, pull her out, and then kill her.
Just the thought of any harm befalling Izzy makes my wolf open one slitted, yellow eye. I’m more aware of his presence than ever before as he peers through the bars of the cage he’s locked in and growls, the sound low and haunting.