Page 110 of Shifting Hearts

FOUR

NATASHA

T he library smelled of cedar and old wealth, polished wood, leather-bound spines, velvet curtains heavy enough to swallow the moonlight.

Firelight threw shadows across the carved ceiling, making the room feel alive, restless.

I had never imagined the mixer this way.

Certainly not here. Certainly not with him.

Collin’s eyes in Ryan’s face. That same gaze, sharp enough to gut me. How could they remember me? I had changed everything. Buried everything.

I rubbed the heel of my thumb against my palm.

It was a human mimicry, a nervous habit I’d perfected just to pass unnoticed.

But across the room, slouched in the dark green leather chair, his presence pulled at me like a blade against skin.

I couldn’t live in a world where his hatred anchored itself to me.

I wasn’t going to be the reason his life, or theirs, slipped into jeopardy.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Barely above a whisper. But in my ears it cracked like thunder.

I nodded, unable to look at him. “Me too.”

“I should’ve known.”

“How, Jace? You remembered me?” His voice through the years rose in my head, echoes of him when I was drowning, when Bibi drugged me to the edge of death, when I lay nearly petrified in that shed. His voice had been there. Always.

The thought burned. I shoved to my feet and began pacing, boots silent against the silk rug.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I can’t stay. Ask your questions, and let’s be done.”

“Just like that? At least stay for Christmas.”

“Christmas? With your wife and a pack I don’t even know?”

“She is not my wife. I’m married to you.”

“No, you’re not.”

His jaw flexed. “Then there you have it.”

“You are still married, Jace.”

“I’m not.”

“Adrienne will never let you go. You know that as well as I do.”

“Still?”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to find you once. To torch you alive and be done with it.”

His eyebrow arched, amused.

“It’s not sexy. Wipe the smirk off your face.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Steven. And her. They begged.”

His head dipped once. “At least I would’ve known you were alive.”

“I didn’t remember you.”

“My presence would’ve broken that. Eventually.” He stood, slow, deliberate.

“Don’t.” My voice snapped sharper than intended.

He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not doing anything. Just—stay for Christmas.”

“And then what? We can never be.”

“My mark isn’t finished.”

“And yet you let her color it in. Or so Gabby told me.”

His eyes hardened. “Because that was all I could give her at the time.”

“I thought you dented on someone else.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“I saw you once, at a restaurant in Blackhill. Before you moved here. I wanted to say hi, but I saw your mark. It wasn’t the same. I thought you’d locked onto someone else.”

He stared at me like I’d struck him. “Morgan, there’s only ever been one lockpass for me. You.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Stop saying that!” His voice cracked against the shelves of books. “I craved you for seventy-five years, and now you can’t even stand being in the same room with me.”

“It’s not that.” I lowered my voice. “It’s that I remember how it was back them. How we circled around Blaze. Her coven. Jace, I did things?—”

“We all did things. My cup broke after a thousand years. Don’t you dare believe your sins outweigh mine. Not after what Annie and I have done.”

I laughed, dry and sharp. “Do you hear yourself? A thousand years, and mine shattered in under a century. It’s not the same.”

Jace sighed, the weight of centuries hanging in that single breath.

“It was bad,” I whispered.

“Then let me see.”

“No.” My voice cracked. “No. Please. No one can see that life. If I could change it, I would. Believe me.”

He nodded, gaze falling to the Persian carpet beneath us. But I could hear it, the shift in his heartbeat. Once, his pulse had been my anchor: steady, sure, the rhythm of home. Now it stuttered, erratic, jagged. And that unsettled me more than anything he had said.

“Okay, so you want to leave. Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“I assume you’ll run with Emily and Gabby. Heaven knows that woman won’t let you out of her sight.”

“I don’t know,” I repeated, softer this time.

“Morgan!”

“Stop calling me that.” My voice broke. “I’m not Morgan anymore. She died a long time ago.”

“Don’t leave her. Please.”

I exhaled, weary. “Her life will always be in danger because of me.”

Jace’s chest rose with a long, heavy sigh. “And your life will be meaningless without people who love you in it.”

“I’m not an asset. I’m nothing. My fire turned on me, and the rest—” I shook my head. “The other abilities are gone.”

“All of them?”

I nodded. “I tried. Over and over. Nothing. Let me go, Jace. I’m not her anymore.”

“So you want me to go back to pretending you don’t exist?”

“Jace, I fucked up, okay?”

“No. You didn’t.”

“Yes!” The word tore out of me. “Yes, I did. What don’t you get?

I’m a monster. I used to kill because I loved it, because it thrilled me.

I didn’t care who I burned. And there are still people out there who remember my face.

They won’t stop if they find out I’m alive.

Every single day I live with my ears tuned, hunting for whispers of other supernaturals nearby.

That’s not living. That’s prison. And you want to be apart of it. No!”

“Then let me help.” His eyes softened, almost broke. “At least let me make sure you’re financially set.”

“I don’t?—”

“It’s non-negotiable. You’re here because of me. That truth will never change. Let me help.”

I swallowed, then gave a small nod. Anything to get out of here.

Anything to breathe again. But even as I agreed, I knew.

His voice, I heard it through desperate times.

It lingered like a brand, a promise. At some point, he was going to lock on me again.

My only defense was to drag it out as long as I could.

“Then it’s set.”He rose, and moved to the door, gesturing for me to leave. My chest felt tight as I walked toward it, every step sharp as broken glass. My fingers curled around the handle, pressing the lever down. The door cracked open, then shut again, pulled closed by a force behind me.

He spun me around, and suddenly his face was inches from mine. Horror flooding in as I realized too late. With Jace, it was always distraction. Always.

“Don’t,” I whispered, too desperate, too late.

His lips crushed against mine. I shoved, tried to push him away, but he was too strong. My fire could’ve ended it in a second, but this was the love of my life. He was going to see what I did, and he’d never forgive me.

So I gave in. I kissed him back, clinging to it because I knew this was all I would get. This kiss. This fleeting, aching moment.

The only piece of him I was allowed in this life.

My body finally answered the hunger I’d buried for too long.

His lips were hard, demanding, and I met him with equal force, clutching at his shirt like if I let go, I’d shatter. My breath tangled with his, a soundless plea for more. My teeth grazed his lower lip and his answering groan shot straight through me.

It was messy, raw, nothing like softness, it was everything we hadn’t said, every ache and every scar turned into fever. I wanted him closer, always closer, until there was no space left to separate us.

His lips tore from mine with a guttural sound, and suddenly we were falling, his fist still tangled in my shirt, dragging me down with him.

The look on his face gutted me. The pain, raw and unfiltered, carved across his features as the lock pass ignited. Once was already unbearable. Twice? It was a curse I’d never wished on him.

“I told you!” My voice cracked, sharp and panicked. “You never listen!” I ripped free of his grip, shirt tearing in his hands, and yanked the door wide. “Dom!”

Gabriella and Dom were there in a heartbeat. Jason’s ragged groans bled through the air, the sound of him choking back agony he couldn’t hide.

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t play by the rules,” Dom muttered, bitter. I should’ve known it too.

“He didn’t,” Gabby snapped, glaring at me.

“He’s going to despise me.” My voice shook as I stumbled back. “Nobody can love a monster.”

I bolted, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Hey, hey!” Gabby’s footsteps thundered after me.

“I need air!”

“You’re a vampire, Morgan!” she yelled, exasperated. “For once, stop moving your fucking feet. Please. Let us help!”

I spun on her, my chest heaving, my hands trembling with fire I couldn’t unleash. “And then what, Gabs? Huh? We will never be like before. I’m not her!”

Her eyes blazed, stubborn as ever. “Yes, you are. You’re still her. You’re just a bit fucked up right now.”

I laughed, sharp and hollow. “A bit? Try completely. My life is one endless run. You don’t believe me? Ask Em.”

But even as the words burned out of me, my lips still tingled with raw passion, still aching more than ever for Jason. His kiss lingered like a brand, and no matter how much I hated myself for it, all I wanted was more.

Jace’s grunts broke into raw screams, jagged and feral. The hiss of water reached my ears, but it was useless. No stream, no ice, could cool the fire ripping through his body. I knew that pain. The lock pass wasn’t merciful, not even for immortals.

My fangs itched against my gums. Every sound of his agony stabbed into me, too sharp, too close. My hearing magnified it, dragged it into my skull until it was unbearable.

“I can’t do this. I can’t listen to this.”

The words ripped out of me as I bolted for the door.

My body blurred across the snow, every stride fast, inhuman, the night air slicing through me.

The moon painted everything silver, cottages glowing like pale ghosts as I flew past, Gabby’s heartbeat pounding close behind mine. She always followed.

The forest swallowed me whole. Shadows stretched like claws across the frozen ground, but I didn’t stop. My legs gave out, knees slamming hard against the earth.

He was going to see everything. Every kill, every night drenched in blood and fire. The monster I had been, the monster I still was, no matter how hard I tried to drown her.

A raw and violent scream tore from me, shaking the trees, rattling the silence. It carried on the night air like a warning to the world.

Nothing would ever be the same again.