Page 6 of Fated to the Lone Shifter (Curse of the Lunaris Alpha #1)

Chapter five

Heat of the Hunt

SERA

I finally make it back to my bunk for my first official night on duty.

I sit cross-legged on the lumpy cot in the bunkroom, burner phone glowing faint blue in my hand.

The house is quiet—night-shift quiet—when even the building seems to breathe in its sleep.

My fingers tap quick against the cracked screen as I type the encrypted message.

Reporting in. Identity intact. Status: embedded.

I attach the photo I took earlier of the strange, rune-marked stone—the one I found nestled deep in Noah Benson’s desk drawer. Identical to the one I found near the ash remains of the scorched corpse in the woods. Too identical.

“Coincidence?” I whisper, even though I know better.

Found matching artifact in S1's office. Investigating further.

The message shoots off into the void. A moment later, the reply flashes back with signature speed:

EMBER: Maintain cover. Get closer to S1.

I stare at the screen for a full ten seconds before closing the app. The words feel heavier than they should. Get closer. I tuck the burner into the hidden compartment in my duffel. It’s shallow and dark, but it’ll continue to keep my secrets. For now.

Get closer.

That phrase coils in my gut like smoke.

Seduce the suspect? It wouldn’t be the first time the Bureau pulled that trick.

Hell, I’d volunteered for it before. But something about this feels different.

Noah isn’t just another file folder with a rap sheet.

He’s fire and stone and secrets I want to unravel.

And maybe, just maybe, I want him to see me too. The real me.

Which is exactly why I don’t want to get too close.

I flop onto my back with a groan, staring at the ceiling until my vision blurs. Tomorrow I’ll face him again. And this time, I’ll have to get closer.

But not too close.

Never too close.

The call comes in just after dawn. Our first real fire.

“Wildfire jump, south ridge. All crews on deck.”

Captain Greene’s voice crackles over the intercom like gravel in a blender. The cot jerks beneath me as I bolt upright, adrenaline already priming my veins. I throw on my turnouts in record time and join the others barreling out of the bunkroom.

Outside, the smoke’s already painting the sky a bruised orange. Heat pulses off the horizon in visible waves. My pulse doubles when I see Noah striding toward us, helmet under one arm, eyes scanning the crew like a hawk sizing up prey.

“Pair off!” he calls. “You’re with me, Knowles.”

A chill slides down my spine despite the rising heat.

“Copy,” I say, too fast, too neutral.

He doesn’t blink. Just turns and leads the way to the engine. I follow, nerves bunching in my stomach like a coiled rope. Why me? Why couldn't he have chosen one of the other probies? This feels…intentional.

Inside the rig, it’s too quiet. The other pairs are already rattling off strategy and checklists, but Noah’s silence is heavier than the gear on my back.

I watch the smoke crawling up the ridgeline like it knows we’re coming. Part of me wants to let the fire have its way—burn it all down and be done. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to stop it.

I can feel my heartbeat syncing with the sirens. The heat is amplifying my own internal fire, and the danger is intensifying. How will I keep my magic from Noah with him so close? Even as I confess my fears to my subconscious, a part of me wishes he knew everything.

He finally glances at me. “You good?”

“Always,” I say, forcing a smirk.

He nods once, like he doesn’t quite believe me. Can’t say I blame him. I don’t quite believe me. I've got too much on the line...showcasing my fire skills without losing control of my magic and keeping Noah Benson off my tail. Nope, just another day on the job.

This close, the scent of cedar and smoke that clings to him is distracting. Maddening. I keep my hands on my lap and my eyes on the windshield.

Focus, Sera. Mission.

You’re not here to fall for the suspect.

You’re here to catch a killer.

The fire is already snarling by the time we hit the ridge—orange tongues devouring dry brush, black smoke coiling like fists into the sky. My heart hammers as I jump down from the rig and follow Noah into the chaos, the wind tugging at my gear like it wants to drag me into the inferno.

“Stay close,” he says, clipped, calm—and commanding. “This terrain’s unpredictable. We’ll flank the western edge and stop it from jumping the line.”

I nod, my mouth dry. I can feel the heat gathering ahead—throbbing like a living thing. The magic inside me stirs, uneasy.

We move in sync, Noah pointing, calling out directions. I respond without hesitation, muscle memory and training kicking in. He moves like he was born in fire, and I do my best to match his pace. But the closer I get to him, the harder it becomes to keep it all in check.

Then, it happens–fast and wrong.

A crack. A gust. And flames leap up on the other side of us, a backdraft igniting dry underbrush in a sudden, brutal flare. It doesn’t make any sense. Not unless…

My gut drops.

Oh no.

I lost control.

Panic wells before I can stop it. I spin toward the flames, heart pounding.

Noah’s voice cuts through the roar. “Sera! Focus!”

He doesn’t know. He can’t know.

I close my eyes for a split second, center myself. Think. Fire needs oxygen. I don’t need a spell. I need will.

I picture a break in the flame, visualize a wall of earth and wind driving a wedge through the heart of the fire. My pulse thrums as something inside me shifts.

A wind gusts hard from the west. The fire stutters.

I make a gentle parting motion with my hands, and a space opens—cool air rushing in with a soft hiss, like the forest itself holding its breath. It prickles along my arms, tugging at the hairs on my neck. Unnatural, yes—but undeniably effective. A firebreak.

Noah stares. He doesn’t speak.

I remember Tori’s wise words: *You don’t control fire by fighting it. You ride it. You guide it. *I didn’t believe her—until now.

Together, we douse the edges, pushing back the blaze with water and grit until it's finally contained.

He turns and walks away.

My knees nearly give out.

He saw. Now what?

During the hike back to the truck, the silence is oppressive.

As we board the firetruck, he glances my way and finally speaks. “Good work, probie.”

He steps away, but something lingers between us.

Heat.

Not just the fire’s leftovers, but something magnetic. Unresolved.

He looks back over his shoulder. Our eyes meet. I expect accusation. But all I see is... curiosity and could it be an element of protectiveness?

Then he turns. Gone Just like that.

I have no idea what to make of him, nor how in the hell to break through this wall of a man.

After cleanup and debrief, I peel off my gear and make my way to the infirmary. The adrenaline’s worn off, leaving behind a bone-deep fatigue. Tori’s already there, sorting through medical supplies like it’s her version of therapy.

She glances up and smiles. “Hey, warrior. Come to get patched up?”

“Just a few nicks,” I say, slipping onto the cot beside her.

She clicks her tongue and inspects my arms. “Mmhmm. And this burn?”

“Steam from the hose. Nothing major.”

She dabs ointment on the spot. Then she lays her hand over the ointment for the real treatment. Within moments, the burn has disappeared.

I lean close and whisper, “I need your help. There was… a moment. I couldn’t stop it. But I managed to push it back. I think I summoned a firebreak.”

Tori’s eyes glint. “A firebreak? That’s impressive.”

“Impressive is one word,” I mutter. “Dangerous is another.”

She gives me a sidelong smile. “Lots of strange things happen in a fire. You’re not alone in that.”

I glance around before whispering, “I’m scared, Tori. It’s getting harder to control. And I was partnered with Noah.”

Her brows lift. “Ah. So the mysterious hot one. Now it makes sense."

I shake off her insinuation. “He knows. I think.”

She consoles me. “I wouldn't worry about it. There's little that's going to faze him out there.”

Then her expression sobers as she leans in. "Keep your distance from Marcus though. He’s been sniffing around. Too charming for his own good, and too conniving for mine.”

I nod. “Can we meet tomorrow? I need to work on my control.”

“Absolutely. There’s a circle in the middle of the woods. We’ll meet there.”

I get up to leave, but doubt won’t let me move.

“Tori, what if next time I can’t stop it?” I murmur. “What if I lose control, and someone—”

Tori covers my hand. “Then we get ahead of it. Tomorrow. In the circle. You’re not alone.”

I don’t say thank you. I just cover her hand and hold tight.

Before I can exhale, the door creaks open. Marcus strides in, cradling his hand with a theatrical wince.

“Burned myself making a late snack,” he announces. “Tragic, right?” Tori rolls her eyes. “Tragic that you’re in here again.”

He flashes a grin at me. “You look like hell, probie. Hot day in the field?” “Something like that,” I say, forcing a smile. But I’m already pulling away, the encounter with Noah replaying in my mind.

And the memory I haven’t shared with anyone—

The way he crouched low at the point of origin. The way he picked up the ash. How he brought it to his nose. Not like an investigator. Like an animal hunting its prey.

Later, alone in my bunk, I retrieve the stone from its hiding spot in my pack.

I sniff it.

Nothing.

I can still sense the energy, but I can’t smell anything of value.

But Noah did. I could see him processing the information.

The real question is: what scent was he chasing... or desperately hoping no one else would find??

I need to find out.