Roaring Flames (Mated by Fire #2)

Chapter 1

One

IZZY

W olves.

Mates.

Fate.

My head reels, spins, somersaults, and a headache threatens to rip apart my skull. There’s a strange sluicing sound between my ears as well, drowned out by the pounding of my feet against the earth. Twigs snap. Leaves crackle. Dried dirt crunches. But all of that is background noise to my tumultuous thoughts.

Wolves.

Mates.

Fate.

The wind is brutal today—keen, almost, as if I’m being stabbed by a thousand tiny knives—but the slice of it against my skin makes me feel alive.

I need to feel something.

Anything.

Without breaking my stride, I begin to scrub at the mark on my arm, half expecting for pain to spiral through me at the touch. Yet, despite the distinct texture of my skin, there’s no ache.

Wolves.

Mates.

Fate.

Those three words ricochet in my head like pinballs—bouncing off every wall, hitting every surface, and eventually falling into tiny holes before re-emerging and beginning anew.

Wolves.

Mates.

Fate.

I know I shouldn’t have run out of Mr. Montgomery’s office the way I did. That’s not me. I don’t run from my problems.

The old Izzy would’ve laughed in the vice principal’s face. Maybe even suggested he see a shrink.

Who the fuck believes in werewolves?

And yet…

I can’t deny the sincerity in his words. The sheer possessiveness that emanated from his red eyes. The slightly sharper than normal canines that dug into his lower lip.

Wolves.

Mates.

Fate.

Water pricks my eyes, but I’m not sure if it’s tears or sweat. Despite the chill in the air, I’ve been running for who the fuck knows how long. All I know is that I have to get away.

From the school.

From Mr. Montgomery.

From the secrets that seem to be pressing down on me, burying me alive.

I draw in a shaky breath as I finally stumble to a stop, placing one hand against a tree to steady myself.

Now…where the hell am I?

Sunlight slants through the tree branches and illuminates the path I’ve been running on. Probably designed for cross-country or track. I take a smidgen of comfort in the fact that I’m not lost in the woods after everything that has been going on—namely, the two murders.

Was it stupid of me to head out on my own? Quite possibly.

But I couldn’t stay in that stuffy school a second longer.

Using the tree for support, I lower myself to the ground and spread my legs out in front of me. I will my rampant heartbeat to return to a normal pace, but no matter how many deep breaths I take, the organ continues to pound relentlessly.

I’ve always suspected that there is more to this world than what meets the eye, but this?

Absently, I run my fingers over the strange markings and swear I feel a surge of heat in my stomach.

Wolves.

Mates.

Fate.

“You belong to the wolves now.”

That’s what Mr. Montgomery said.

The wolves…

As in him and Ashton?

What about Ethan, Emery, and Reid?

Grayson?

Is that why I haven’t been able to get in contact with my best friend? Is he somehow tied up in this mess?

I place an arm across my forehead as I struggle to get my thoughts in some semblance of an order. They continue to swirl like a roulette table, never stopping, never slowing down.

I have so many questions and no idea where to start.

Wolves.

Mates.

Fate.

Christian will know, I reason, resolve settling in my gut. Instinctively, I ball my hands into fists, my nails digging into my fleshy palms. Christian will have the answers.

And yet…

Thinking about Christian inevitably reminds me of the strange, inappropriate thoughts I had about him just before I ran from his office.

What his lips would feel like against mine.

How his stubble would feel grazing my chin.

How wonderfully delicious it would be to have his body pressed against my own.

What the fuck is wrong with you, Izzy? I mentally berate myself for the one hundredth time.

He’s the damn vice principal. An authority figure. I shouldn’t be lusting after him or thinking about his perfect body or imagining running my fingers through his dark hair.

And I definitely shouldn’t be remembering how right it felt to hear him call me his.

He’s mine , my inner voice growls with startling ferocity.

I shush her.

Strange feelings aside, Christian Montgomery has the answers I’m so desperately looking for.

Now I just need to gather the courage to talk to him.

And hopefully not jump his bones in the process.