Page 7 of Burned By My Mate (Twisted Oak Pack: First Responders #3)

SEVEN

Emerson

I wake up the next morning and, for a second, I forget where I am. The bed beneath me issofterthan mine ever was, the blanketsthicker, and the air carries the faintest hint ofcedar and smoke. It takes me a moment to remember that my house isgone—that I’m in Logan’s home,his space.

That thought makes something deep inside mesettle. I’ve only known the grumpy guy for a few days, but there’s something about him

I shove that feeling down and force myself to sit up, stretching as the morning light spills through the window. The events of yesterday swirl in my mind—the scratching at the door, the tension in Logan’s voice when he told me tostay, the way his blue eyes burned when he promised to protect me.

I shake off the thought. I don’t need a protector. I’ve been taking care of myself foryears, and I’m not about to start depending on some overbearing firefighter just because he makes good bacon.

I throw off the blankets and smile when I see the neat stack of clean clothes that Logan left for me on the dresser. I hurry to change into the borrowed clothes and then step into the hallway, pausing when I hear movement from the kitchen.

I should’ve known he’d be up already. I swear the mandoesn’t sleep.

I follow the smell of coffee and find Logan standing at the stove,shirtless, his broad back flexing as he moves.

I freeze.

Holy hell.

I knew he was big, but this?

His muscles shift as he flips something in the pan, his bare skin dusted withfaint scars, his dark brown hair a littlemussedlike he just ran his hands through it.

I must make a sound, because he glances over his shoulder, his sharp blue eyes locking onto mine.

“You’re up,” he says, voicelow, rough from sleep.

I swallow hard.

“Yeah.”

I need tostop staring.

I tear my gaze away and move toward the coffee pot, pretending that my faceisn’tburning. I take a long sip of coffee so I don’t have to try to think of something to say.

I amnotgoing to let Logan West get under my skin. Even if he’s built like adamn Greek god.

I clear my throat.

“So. What’s the plan for today?”

Logan’s expression shifts slightly, somethingseriousflickering behind his eyes.

“I need to check in with my team,” he says. “And I want to swing by your house. See if we missed anything.”

A lump forms in my throat.My house. Or what’s left of it.

I nod slowly, pushing past the ache in my chest.

“Okay.”

Logan watches me for a moment like he’s trying toread me, but then he turns back to the stove. “You don’t have to come with me,” he says gently, but I shake my head.

“I want to see it. I need to.”

His lips flatten, but he doesn’t argue with me.

Eat first.”

I roll my eyes at his bossiness but do as he orders. He sits next to me, and we eat in silence. The tension in the air is palpable, and I can’t tell if it’s because we’re both worried about the people from Red Fog or about what my reaction might be when we see the remains of my house.

“I’ll clean up. You go get dressed,” I tell him, and he nods and heads down the hallway to his room.

I rinse and load the dishwasher, then wipe down the counters.

“Ready?” He asks, and I nod.

We head out to his Jeep, and he opens the door for me. I can see him looking around, scanning our surroundings for any sign of a threat as he climbs behind the wheel. We take off, and fifteen minutes later, we pull up to my house, and my breath stalls as we pull into the driveway.

I wasn’t prepared for this.

Standing in front of what’s left of my house is like gettingpunched in the gut.

Half of the structure ischarred, the roof half-collapsed, and the windows shattered.Everything I owned is gone.

I swallow hard, my chesttightening. Logan stands beside me, silent. He doesn’t try to say anythingstupid—no empty reassurances, no pointless clichés, and somehow, that makes it easier.

I take a slow breath. “I need to see if anything survived.”

Logan nods. “I’ll go with you.”

I should argue. Tell him I can handle it on my own. But I don’t, because the truth is, Idon’t want to do this alone. So I nod, and together, we step inside.

The inside of the house isworse than I expected. Everything is covered inash and debris, the air still thick with the scent of smoke. I pick my way carefully through the wreckage, my boots crunching against thescorched remainsof what used to be my home.

I stop when I see the remains of myart room. There are splatters of paint, half blackened, mixed between melted paintbrushes and canvases.

I bite my lip, willing myself to keep it together, but it’shard.

Logan moves beside me, his presencesolid, steady.“I’m sorry.”

I nod tightly, not trusting myself to speak. I turn away, heading for what used to be the kitchen, stepping over debris as I push open thehalf-burneddoor, and that’s when I see it.

Abox. Tucked into the corner,half-buriedbeneath a collapsed beam.

My chesttightens as I recognize it right away.

It’s my grandmother’s box.

Without thinking, I move forward, dropping to my knees and shoving the debris aside. The lid is scorched, the edgesblackened, but when I pry it open, the inside isintact.

My grandmother’s recipe book. Her old photographs. A stack oflettersshe wrote to me before she passed.

I let out a shaky breath, my hands trembling as I brush soot from the edges. It’s noteverything, but it’ssomething. And right now? That’s enough.

Logan crouches beside me. “You got what you need?”

I nod slowly,hugging the box to my chest.“Yeah.”

His jaw tightens, his blue eyesburning.

“We should go.”

I stand, my legs shaky, and let Logan lead me out, and as we step back into the daylight, I realize something. I don’t feelaloneanymore. Not when Logan’s beside me. And that settles something inside of me.

“I’ll take you home. Harris is going to come by the house to go over a few things in a bit,” he says, and I nod, clutching my grandmother’s things as we make the drive back to his place.

When we get home, Logan gives me my space. I think that he can sense that I need a few minutes to compose myself. I set my grandma’s things on the dresser and peel open her recipe book, flipping through the familiar pages.

I’m so lost in thought that I don’t hear Logan approach or open the door.

“We can make one of the recipes if you want,” he says kindly, but I shake my head.

“Not right now,” I whisper, and he nods.

“Did you want to go get some stuff from town?”

“No. No, I just want to stay here, I think.”

“Do you want to be alone?” He asks, and I shake my head.

“No,” I admit. “Let’s talk.”

He seems surprised but doesn’t argue. I follow him down the hallway and into the living room. He takes a seat on the couch, and I plop down across from him on the loveseat.

“What do you want to talk about?” He asks me carefully, and I would swear that he seems nervous.

“Have you heard anything else about who burned my house down or why they did it?”

“No, not yet. I need to talk to Ryker and Griffin and find out what those two men said yesterday.”

I nod, my mind spinning in a million different directions.

“I’ll tell you as soon as I do know anything,” he promises me.

“I need to contact the insurance company and see what needs to be done with all of that,” I murmur, and he nods.

“I can help you with that. I’ll get you the reports that you’ll need to give them.”

We’re silent for a few moments, and then Logan clears his throat. He looks worried, and I’m instantly on high alert.

“What is it?” I ask him, and he looks away.

“I need to talk to you, to tell you something,” he says slowly, and I shift, moving to the edge of my seat.

“Okay…about what?”

My imagination takes over, and I’m suddenly thinking of worst-case scenarios. Did something else happen?

Logan takes a deep breath, and I hold my own breath as I wait for him to tell me what’s going on.

“I’m not human, Emerson.”

I blink. “What?”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Just holds my gaze, his blue eyesburning.

“I’m a shifter,” he says. “A bear shifter.”

My pulsestumbles. The words don’t make sense. Theycan’tmake sense, but something about the way he says it—socertain, sounshakable—makes my skinprickle. I swallow hard.

“What?” I ask, trying to understand what he’s telling me.

“I’m a shifter. I can change between being a human and a bear at will.”

I search his face, looking for any sign that he’s pranking or messing with me, but there’s nothing.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

I let out ashaky laugh.“That’s…shifters aren’t real, Logan.”

He scoots even closer, his presenceoverwhelming.

“They are,” he says. “I am one.”

I shake my head. “That’s?—”

“I’ll show you,” he says firmly.

“Show me wha?—”

Before I can finish, hemoves. He stands and starts to take off his clothes. My mouth drops open, and I stare in shock as he pulls his shirt off and then reaches for the button on his pants. I slap my hands over my eyes then.

“You have to look,” he says, and I snort.

“Is this some elaborate way for you to hit on me?” I ask him.

“No, well, not really.”

“Not really?!?”

“I’ll explain, but I need you to believe me about me being a bear shifter first. Please. Just look.”

I peel my hands away from my eyes and open them, taking in all of Logan.

“Jesus, you’re big,” I whisper, and he coughs out a laugh.

“Watch,” he says, and that’s the only warning I get because suddenly he’s changing.

His musclesshift and expand, his skin rippling as his formblurs, his body morphing into somethingmassive, and right in front of me, where Loganstood just seconds ago, is abear.

Ahuge, dark-furred bear with piercingblue eyes.

My stomachdrops. My mouth drops open. And the only thought in my head is holy shit.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.

I sitfrozen, my breath stuck in my throat as I stare at the massivebearin front of me. Logan’s bear, because that’s what’s happening, right?This is Logan.

I should be running. Screaming.Freaking out. But I can’t move.

The bear’sblue eyeslock onto mine, intense and sharp—too familiar to be anything but him.

“No. No, this isn’t?—”

Logan shifts again. His formblurs, muscles twisting and stretching until suddenly—he’s standing in front of me again.

Human. Naked.

I choke on air.

“Do you believe me now?” He asks, and I nod, my eyes closed as I listen to him get dressed.

“This is insane,” I mutter, standing and starting to pace. “I mean, shifters? That’s—” I stop, spinning to face him again. “How? Why? What?—”

“I was born this way,” he says, calm as ever. “My family’s been shifters for generations.”

I run ashaky handthrough my hair. “And I’m just supposed to… accept that?”

His jaw tightens. “I don’t expect you to understand right away. But it’s the truth. Shifters are real. Most people in town are shifters. Most people in the surrounding towns are shifters, too, and belong to one of the packs around here.”

I open my mouth to argue—but nothing comes out, because somehow,deep down, I already knew. Maybe not the full truth. Maybe I didn’t know Logan was aliteralbear, but I knew he wasdifferent. I couldfeel itfrom the moment we met. The way my bodyreactsto him, the pull between us—it never made sense.

Until now.

I swallow hard. “The fire.”

Logan stiffens. “What about it?”

I cross my arms. “This is connected, isn’t it? Red Fog. Shifters. Someone burned my house down as a message to you or this place.”

His jaw ticks. “Yeah.”

I exhale sharply. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “We’ve been having problems with them recently, but they’ve never done something like this before.”

Isinkonto the couch, my legs suddenly feelingweak. Logan moves in front of me, his faceserious, intense.

“There’s more,” he says, and I swallow hard.

“About Red Fog, or about you being a bear?”

“The bear thing.”

I take a deep breath and nod.

“What is it?”

“Shifters have mates. Fated mates. They only love or want their fated mate.”

“Okay…”

“You’re mine.”

“What?”

“You’re my fated mate. We’re destined to be together.”

“And you know this how?”

“I can smell it.”

I blink, my mind going blank.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“I can smell you. Shifters can smell their fated mate. It’s a very distinct smell. Very addicting.”

“Okay… so we’re supposed to, like, date now?”

I’m so far out of my depth, and I don’t know how to react or what to do now.

“It’s more than that. We’re linked. I’ll only ever want you. I’ll only ever love you. I know that it’s different for you since you’re human and that it might take longer for your feelings to develop.

I stare at him, because the truth is that I can already feel it. I’m safe with Logan. He’s been driven to protect me, keep me safe, and take care of me since we met. He’s always cooking for me, bringing me clean clothes, taking me shopping, and looking out for me.

He’s been showing me all along how important I am to him.

“There’s more,” he says. “Shifters also have this thing called the mating heat.”

“What the heck is that?”

“Every month, on the night of the full moon, shifters and their mates can feel the mating heat. It’s this pull between the two.”

“Pull?” I say in confusion and he sighs.

“We won’t be able to keep our hands off each other. Or I won’t be able to anyway. I’m not sure how it will feel for you since you’re a human.”

“Okay. When is it?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Huh.”

He’s studying me so intensely, and I bite back a smile. He looks so worried, so anxious to see how I’ll react, and I kind of like seeing him all riled up and on edge.

“Okay.”

It looks like his head is about to explode, and I swallow down a laugh. The truth is that I need to figure out my feelings for him. So much has happened in the last few days, and it’s hard to get it all sorted in my head.

I mean, my house burned down, and I lost almost everything.

Then I met this grumpy man, and we got off on the wrong foot.

I moved in with him, and we were threatened again.

I found out about shifters and fated mates and the fact that Logan is one, and we’re meant to be together.

It’s all so much.

How do I feel about him? I think, and the answer is right there.

I like him. I want him. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never really been interested in anyone, and now I can’t help but wonder if it’s because I was fated to only want this man in front of me.

“I’m going to get started on dinner. Harris should be here soon,” he says, and I nod.

He heads for the kitchen, and I watch him go.

Alright, I know that I want him. Now I need to know if I can stay here with him forever. Can I handle the Red Fog threat? Or should I break things off between us before they can start and save myself from a broken heart?