Page 42

Story: Shifting the Flame

"You've outdone yourself, Alpha." The elder dragons who had criticized him for years were now nodding with respect. "The festival hasn't been this alive in decades."

"The credit belongs to Danica." His eyes sought her across the festival grounds, finding her directing the setup for the evening's bonfire.

"She brings out something in you we haven't seen before." The elder dragon's eyes gleamed with approval. "Something the town has desperately needed for the past five years."

As sunset painted the sky in brilliant shades of orange and crimson, Asher surveyed the festival grounds with satisfaction. Lanterns hung from tree branches illuminated the pathways where townspeople strolled, laughing and celebrating. By any measure, the Founders Festival had been an unprecedented success – thanks largely to the woman in the floral dress directing a group of children on proper cleanup procedures.

Yet something wasn't right.

Asher's dragon instincts, honed over centuries of his bloodline protecting this territory, prickled uncomfortably. Danica had been distant since their shower this morning – efficient, professional, but emotionally withdrawn. Every time he'd tried to corner her for a proper conversation, she'd slipped away with a ready excuse about some festival emergency that needed her attention.

"We should head back and change for the closing ceremony," he said when he finally managed to catch her alone. "I want to wear the formal attire for tonight's shifting ceremony."

"Of course." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "I'll just finish this checklist first."

At his mansion, she practically bolted for the guest bedroom, calling over her shoulder, "We don't have much time. I'll be quick!"

The bedroom door closed with finality, leaving Asher standing alone in the hallway, his jaw clenched tight. This wasn't the woman who'd challenged his every decision with a spark in her eyes. This wasn't the mate who'd matched his passion with her own last night.

His dragon senses flared with warning. Something was very wrong.

"I'm heading to my room to change," he called loudly. "Wait for me downstairs when you're ready."

He made a show of closing his bedroom door loudly. Then he silently moved to the banister overlooking the main floor, strategically out of sight. Five minutes later, Danica emerged from the guest bedroom, and Asher's breath caught in his throat.

The red silk dress hugged every curve of her body, and the low neckline revealed the smooth expanse of her skin. She looked beautiful and powerful. But something else caused his eyes to widen further. She was carrying her suitcase and rushing down the stairs toward the front door.

Asher's heart constricted. She was leaving. Without a word. Without explanation.

Not his mate. Not while he drew breath.

He vaulted over the railing, landing with feline grace directly in front of her. Danica gasped, stumbling backward, her brown eyes wide.

"Going somewhere?" His voice emerged deeper than usual, his dragon close to the surface. "I thought we agreed to wait for each other."

"I—I thought you were busy changing." Her fingers tightened around the suitcase handle. She smelled of lavender and fear, an intoxicating and troubling combination.

"That doesn't answer my question." He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "Were you planning to leave right after the closing ceremony? Or were you skipping the night shifting altogether?"

Tears welled in her eyes, but she remained silent, her lower lip trembling with the effort of maintaining her composure. The sight shattered something in his chest. His mate was in pain.

"Danica." He gentled his tone, reaching out his hand to touch her face. "Talk to me. What happened between last night and this morning?"

She looked up at him, a teardrop finally escaping to slide down her cheek, and Asher knew with bone-deep certainty he would move mountains, burn cities, or challenge the entire world to keep this woman by his side and wipe that sorrow from her eyes.

Asher's finger caught the teardrop as it slid down her cheek, the diamond-like droplet balancing on his fingertip. His dragon stirred under his skin, enraged that something had made her cry. Someone had hurt what was his, and that was utterly unacceptable.

"Tell me," he commanded softly, his voice a velvet rumble. His hand cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. "Are you leaving now or after the ceremony?"

Danica's eyes fluttered closed, her lashes dark against her skin. "I don't know. I haven't decided yet."

The silk of her red dress shimmered in the light as her chest rose with a shuddering breath. Every instinct in Asher's body screamed at him to gather her close, and to wrap her in his protection and never let go. But he held back, sensing she needed space to speak.

"What's wrong?" He kept his voice gentle though his blood boiled with the need to fix whatever was wrong. "Was it the wolf attack? I know that was terrifying, but I promise you I'll never let anything?—"

"It's not just that." Her voice cracked like thin ice.

"Then what?" He stepped closer, crowding her space deliberately, using his height and presence to make her look up. He needed to see her eyes. "My world is different from yours, I understand that. But I thought... I hoped you'd at least talk to me before giving up on us."