Page 5 of Fated to the Lone Shifter (Curse of the Lunaris Alpha #1)

Chapter four

Smoke Signals

NOAH

D ay two Greene calls an early end to training and declares it a crew-bonding night. "Cookout on the back pad," he says. "No drills. No drama. Just people."

The crew doesn’t need to be told twice.

By sundown, the back of the firehouse is buzzing with activity.

A couple of folding tables are dragged out.

Someone’s set up a portable grill. Music hums low from a speaker—somewhere between country and classic rock.

The scent of charred burgers and woodsmoke fills the air.

For a few hours, the looming wildfires and dead bodies feel a little farther away.

I lean against the railing with a paper plate in hand, eyes drifting over the rookies.

Taylor’s attempting to flip a burger with a pair of tongs clearly not made for grilling.

It flies off and hits the ground with a splat.

He laughs too loud and offers to eat it anyway.

Jamie shrieks, horrified, and snatches it from him, tossing it in the bin before anyone can stop her.

Taylor pouts, but he’s already got ketchup on his chin.

Kid’s harmless, but he’s a walking hazard.

Nicole, on the other hand, moves like a damn ninja.

She’s set up a mini fire-dancing demonstration with batons she apparently made herself. Spinning and twirling them with calm precision, each baton flaring at the tips like miniature torches. It’s mesmerizing. Even Greene cracks a smile.

Marcus notices too. He stands off to the side with a drink in hand, but his eyes don’t leave her. When she finishes, he approaches with a slow grin.

"Didn’t know we had a fire witch on the squad. Would a thought you could a lit that match with that dance." he teases.

Nicole flushes, but gives it right back. "Careful. Unless you want me to turn you into a toad."

He offers her a mock bow.

She’s still blushing when he asks her if he'd turn into a prince if the beautiful princess kissed him.

I catch the exchange from across the yard and shake my head from side to side. Marcus, my most trusted friend and the biggest male chauvinist pig I know. If there’s an attractive woman around, he’s all over it. And Nicole is definitely cute.

Rivas, of course, is holding court near the grill, telling some wild story about how he once escaped a structure collapse using nothing but a wet towel and bad intentions.

He's got the makings of a mini-Marcus. It’s mostly bullshit, but he’s got the others laughing.

Even Sera chuckles, perched on the cooler beside Jamie, sipping from a bottle of water like she’s been here for years.

Jamie leans in to Sera and says something that makes her laugh—a quick, genuine burst of sound I haven’t heard from her yet. Whatever the rookie said, Sera claps her on the shoulder, and Jamie practically glows under the attention.

Then Taylor sits down next to them, awkward and sweaty, holding a burger like he’s unsure how to eat it. "You ever try peanut butter on one of these?" he asks.

Sera raises a brow. "That’s either genius or horrifying."

He grins. "You won’t know until you try it. Changed my life."

"I’ll take your word for it," she says, holding up her hands in surrender. Jamie giggles, and even Nicole glances over from where Marcus is now twirling a very unimpressive baton without fire.

I watch Sera navigate the group like she’s done it a hundred times—easy smiles, measured responses, never too open but never quite aloof. She’s good at this. Too good. Like someone trained to blend without giving anything away.

She catches me watching.

"What?" she mouths silently across the lawn, motioning me to join them.

I give her a small shake of my head. Nothing. Everything.

She cocks her head, eyes narrowing like she’s trying to figure me out. Then she pushes off the cooler, dusts her hands on her jeans, and walks toward me.

Shit.

"Didn’t peg you for a lurker," she says, stopping a few feet away.

"Didn’t peg you for a firehouse social butterfly."

She shrugs, lips quirking. "I’m full of surprises."

I look down at my plate, then back at her. "You settling in alright?"

She nods. "Better than expected. Jamie’s got a wicked sense of humor. Rivas is... loud. Taylor’s convinced peanut butter is a lifestyle. And Nicole—she’s kind of a badass."

"You’re not wrong."

We stand in silence for a beat too long. The air between us charged, but not uncomfortable.

"This feels like a trap," she murmurs, glancing around. "Everyone happy, burgers grilling, music playing... it’s too peaceful."

"It is," I agree. "But we take the good nights where we can."

Greene steps to the middle of the group and makes a toast—simple, gruff, heartfelt. "To those who run toward the fire, not away from it. And to the bonds that’ll keep us alive when it gets bad."

The clink of bottles and cups follows, and for one brief moment, the air feels lighter.

Sera catches my gaze. There’s a flicker in her eyes—not a warning, not a threat. An invitation.

God help me, I want to answer it.

I’m back in the bunkroom before the others, lying on my cot, one arm behind my head, watching shadows ripple across the ceiling from the security lights outside. The station’s quiet now—the kind of quiet that only comes in the eye of a storm.

My thoughts won’t shut up.

Sera Knowles.

There’s something about her I can’t put down. Not just her sharp eyes or the way she held her own in training—though both were impressive. It’s the way she looks at the fire. Like it’s speaking a language only she understands.

Or the way she moves, like she’s always ready to bolt or strike.

She’s hiding something. And I’d know—I’ve spent most of my life hiding who I am—from the crew, from the town, even from myself when it gets too loud in my head. I recognize the weight of secrets. She carries it like a second skin.

And then there’s the spark.

Literally.

The jolt that jumped between us the second I cuffed her—some prank that should’ve been harmless fun. But when her skin met mine, I felt it deep in my chest. Not just attraction. Something primal. Something ancient.

And worse, something familiar.

I roll onto my side, jaw tight. The wolf inside me has been pacing ever since. Watching. Marking. It’s dangerous. I’ve fought tooth and nail to keep my instincts in check, to keep my head down and protect my cover. A fated mate? That’s a complication I can’t afford—not now, not ever.

Sleep doesn’t come easily.

Not when the fires are starting to form a pattern. Not when the captain mentioned the bodies. And definitely not when a woman with secrets like hers is sharing my oxygen.

But tomorrow’s another training day.

And I’ll be watching her just as closely as the flames.

Maybe closer.

I drift off. But the fire follows.

I’m standing in the woods, but everything is alight—trees glowing with heat, the sky smeared in crimson and gold. Sera stands at the center, barefoot in the ash, her hair swirling in an infernal wind. Her eyes burn like embers.

She lifts her hands, and flames slither up her arms, coiling her wrists and shoulders like silk. Her voice—low, seductive, undeniably hers—calls to something deep inside me. Not just the man. The wolf.

“Come closer.”

My body moves without command. Each step toward her stokes the fire higher. I reach for her, and her magic surges like a wave, wrapping around me, tangling with the part of me I keep buried beneath my skin.

We collide. Her lips sear mine. My arms close around her as flames roar around us.

She’s heat and magic and danger incarnate. Our bodies find each other with an urgency that defies thought. My hands grip her hips. Her fingers tangle in my hair. It’s wildfire. Untamed. Consuming.

Her lips are fire against mine, a blaze that ignites every nerve ending in my body.

I taste smoke and something sweet, uniquely her, as our mouths move in sync, hungry and desperate.

My hands slide down her back, pulling her closer, feeling the heat radiating from her skin.

She’s a force of nature, and I’m helpless against her.

My wolf growls in approval, its primal instincts taking over as I press her against me, our bodies flush, hearts pounding in rhythm.

The dream feels real—too real. The scent of ash and pine, the crackle of flames, the way her magic hums against my skin like a live wire. I can feel the rough bark of a tree at my back, the heat of the fire licking at my boots.

Sera’s hands claw at my shirt, tearing it open, and I shudder as her nails scrape my chest. I break the caress to trail kisses down her neck, her skin scorching under my lips.

She arches into me, baring her throat, and I grin against her flesh, my teeth grazing her pulse point. “You’re playing with fire,” I murmur.

She pushes me back, her eyes blazing with challenge, and I let her take control.

Her hands fumble with my belt, her fingers trembling as she undoes my pants.

I kick them aside, my breath hitching as her hands wrap around me, firm and sure.

I hiss, my head falling back, the sensation overwhelming.

“Sera,” I groan, her name a plea and a warning.

She doesn’t stop. Her lips find mine again as she moves, her touch relentless, and I’m drowning in her, in the heat and the magic and the raw need.

I grip her hips, pulling her closer, and she gasps as our bodies align, the friction sending sparks through me.

The flames around us roar louder, feeding off our desire, and I don’t care. Let it consume me. Let her consume me.

I flip her onto her back on the ground, and I hover above her, my hands roaming her body, mapping every curve, every dip.

Her skin is electric, her breath coming in ragged gasps as I kiss my way down her chest, pausing to tease her nipples with my tongue.

She arches off the ground, her fingers tangling in my hair, and I smirk against her skin, savoring her reaction.

“Tell me to stop,” I challenge, though we both know she won’t.

“Don’t you dare,” she pants, and I chuckle, a dark, hungry sound, before sliding lower.

Her legs fall open, and I press a kiss to her core, her scent intoxicating.

She’s wet and hot, and I groan, my tongue dipping into her, tasting her fully.

Her hands grip my shoulders, her nails digging in as she moans, her head tipping back.

I drink her in, my mouth and hands working in tandem, driving her higher, closer.

“Noah,” she whimpers, and I look up, her eyes glazed with desire.

I rise over her, my body hovering above hers, and she reaches for me, her hands guiding me inside her.

She’s tight and scorching, and I hiss as she takes me in, our bodies merging in a rush of heat and pleasure.

I move slowly at first, savoring the way she feels around me, her walls clenching, her breath catching with each thrust.

But the pace quickens, the fire around us mirroring the inferno inside me.

I grip her hips, driving into her harder, faster, the rhythm primal and urgent.

She meets me stroke for stroke, her nails digging into my back, her lips seeking mine in desperate kisses.

The air is thick with smoke and sweat, the scent of her and the sound of our bodies colliding filling my senses.

And just before I lose myself in her completely—

I wake.

Heart pounding. Sheets damp with sweat. My skin still tingling like I’ve been burned. My cock is hard, throbbing with want.

I press the heels of my hands to my eyes and breathe deep.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

But I can still smell her. I can still feel her. And I know—this isn’t just lust.

It’s something else.

A pull.

I throw off the blanket and get up. The bunkroom’s still dark, the others asleep. But something gnaws at me. A growl under my skin that won’t settle.

I make my way to my office in bare feet, moving silently through the halls. The door is cracked. Just enough to let in the sliver of moonlight.

She’s not here. But her scent lingers—lavender, smoke, and something older. Something underneath it all that tingles at the edge of my awareness—magic.

I cross the room and open the bottom drawer.

The stone is there.

I pick it up and roll it between my fingers.

It’s warm. Humming. Alive.

There’s no denying it now. It carries her imprint. Her magic.

She was here.

She touched it.

And she’s getting close.

Too close.

And it’s not close enough.