Page 9

NINE

HELENA

T he fire danced along the fabric of the curtains with hungry intensity, seeming to multiply and grow with each passing second. Helena’s heart hammered against her ribs as the flames spread across the wall. How could Sol believe this was coming from her? Yet the evidence burned bright before her eyes.

His chest was firm against hers, radiating heat that rivaled the growing inferno around them. The scent of him—earth and spice with something wild underneath—flooded her senses.

Their eyes locked, and Helena felt something electric pass between them. His gaze held such certainty that for a moment, she almost believed him. His rapid heartbeat pulsed against her, matching her own frantic rhythm. The intensity in those forest-green eyes was completely intoxicating.

“I...” Helena’s voice faltered. Words failed her as she stood trapped between the man who claimed to be her fated mate and the fire that supposedly came from within her.

“Trust yourself,” Sol murmured softly, his full lips inches from hers. His breath warm against her face. “Trust me.”

For a brief moment, the world stood completely still. Helena couldn’t look away from him. She couldn’t process the dual shock of the flames erupting from her hand and the overwhelming proximity of his body. His lips hovered so close to hers that the smallest movement would bring them together.

He must have sensed she had no control—not over her newly awakened powers or her body’s response to him. Without breaking eye contact, Sol raised his right hand toward the flames while still holding her wrist with his left.

What happened next stole Helena’s breath.

With precise, fluid gestures of his fingers, Sol directed each tendril of fire. The flames peeled away from the curtains, stretching and curling through the air like living ribbons. They danced and wavered, then streamed across the room in a graceful arc, joining the flames already burning in the dining room fireplace.

The display was mesmerizing—beautiful in a primal way that stirred something deep inside her. Each flame obeyed his silent command, flowing like water but burning bright. Not a single ember strayed from the path he created.

She watched, transfixed, as the last of the fire left the curtains and settled into the fireplace. The fabric was singed black along the edges but no longer burning. The room quieted, the crackling of flames now contained to where they belonged.

“How did you...” she finally whispered, unable to finish the thought.

His mouth curved into a half-smile. “The same way you’ll soon learn to. The Sunflare pack has always had a kinship with fire.” His thumb traced small circles on the inside of her wrist. “It’s in our blood.”

“Our blood,” she repeated, the words strange on her tongue. Her mind raced, trying to reconcile what she’d just witnessed with everything she thought she knew about reality.

“Yes,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “Yours and mine.”

The fireplace flames suddenly flared higher as if responding to his words—or perhaps to the quickening of her pulse.

“I’m not one of you,” Helena protested, though the conviction in her voice wavered. “I’m a chef. I’m a normal human being.”

His eyes glinted. “No, Helena, you’re extraordinary. You always have been. Now your true nature is awakening.”

His certainty was both terrifying and thrilling. The flames in the fireplace danced higher again, matching the rhythm of her increasingly unsteady heart. Her thoughts spun in dizzying circles. She stared at the charred curtains, then back at the impossibly sexy man still gripping her wrist. His touch sent waves of heat rippling through her body that had nothing to do with fire.

“So, you’re saying I created that fire with my awakened powers? My true nature?” She pulled back slightly, but Sol maintained his hold. “No. You must have done something to make me do it. Some trick or?—“

“Impossible.” Sol’s voice cut through her protests with casual authority. “I cannot create fire, Helena. Only you can. I can merely control your fire.” His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist, sending shivers up her arm. “I am a complement to your power. Together, our abilities are stronger and more controlled than apart.”

The absolute certainty in his voice left no room for argument, yet Helena couldn’t wrap her mind around what he was saying. Her? Creating fire? It defied everything she understood about herself and reality.

“So let’s say, hypothetically, that I believe you.” She swallowed hard. “And I’m starting these fires. Does that mean only you can control them? That I’m just some... walking fire hazard needing a handler?”

A warm smile spread across his face, making her stomach flip. “That’s not what it means at all.” His free hand came up to brush her hair back from her face. The casual intimacy of the gesture left her momentarily breathless. “You can learn to control the fire yourself. But only women are the bearers of creation fire. That’s simply how it is among our kind.”

Helena stood frozen, torn between wanting to flee and wanting to lean into his touch. She was acutely aware of his body so close to hers—the solid wall of his chest, the coiled strength in his arms, and the woodsy scent that clung to his skin. Every breath she took brought his scent deeper into her lungs, making her head swim.

His green eyes never wavered, watching her with an intensity that made her feel both exposed and protected. Heat pulsed between them, and Helena couldn’t tell if it was her newfound powers or simple attraction. Perhaps both.

The dining room doors framed them like a portrait—the Alpha Prince and the woman he claimed was his Luna. The absurdity of it all bubbled up inside her. Twenty-four hours ago, her biggest concern had been getting through her busy workday unscathed as the owner and executive chef of her restaurant. Now, she stood in a castle with a man who supposedly turned into a wolf, who called her his mate, and who talked about elemental fire powers as casually as discussing the weather.

And yet...

The charred curtains stood as evidence she couldn’t ignore. The way he had drawn the flames across the room—that had been real. The fire that had erupted in her restaurant kitchen both times—that had been real too.

Her breath hitched as his thumb traced another circle on her pulse point, his touch featherlight but commanding. A spark of something—desire, fear, power?—flickered deep inside her core. She felt it like a tiny flame, waiting to grow stronger.

Suddenly, her mind spun out of control as she tried to process everything all at once. Wolves. Lunas. Fated mates. Elemental fire powers. She gripped the doorframe to steady herself, the smooth wood cool beneath her fingertips. Her green sundress clung to her curves, suddenly feeling too thin and too revealing under his intense gaze.

“I can’t...” Her voice trembled. “This is way too much. Yesterday, I was just a chef trying to forget it was my birthday. Today, I’m setting things on fire with my bare hands and being told I’m the destined mate of a wolf prince.”

Sol leaned in impossibly closer, his tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders and powerful frame. The crisp white shirt contrasted with his tanned skin, making his green eyes seem even more vibrant.

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” His voice was low and gentle. “But denying what you are won’t make it go away.”

“What I am? I don’t even know what that means anymore.”

She felt the panic rising again as she remembered the curtains igniting at her touch and the kitchen at the restaurant erupting in flames. Her heartbeat quickened, and with horror, she noticed the candles on the dining table flaring higher in response.

Sol noticed too, and suddenly, he wrapped his strong arms around her. The unexpected embrace should have felt invasive—they were practically strangers—but instead, Helena felt an immediate wave of calm wash over her. His body was warm, solid, and real. Something to anchor her in this storm of impossibilities.

“Breathe with me,” he murmured, his breath tickling her ear.

She did, matching her breaths to his, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against hers. The candle flames settled, flickering at a normal height once more.

“How did you do that?” Helena whispered, not pulling away.

“I didn’t. You did.” His hands traced soothing circles on her back. “Your emotions fuel your power. When you feel calmer, the flames respond.”

Helena lifted her face to look at him. His expression was intent and watchful, but there was another thing there too—a heat that wasn’t from any fire powers.

“And why do I feel calmer with you?” she asked, heat rising to her cheeks.

His mouth curved up into that half-smile that made her stomach flip. “The mate bond. Even if you don’t accept it yet, your body knows. Your fire knows.”

His words should have sounded ridiculous, but standing in his arms, Helena couldn’t deny the connection between them. Every touch sparked something primal within her.

“But you kidnapped me,” she reminded him, though her voice lacked conviction.

“I rescued you,” he corrected, his hands sliding to rest at her waist. “From the fire, from enemies, and from a world that wouldn’t understand what you’re becoming.”

His face was millimeters from hers now. Helena knew she should pull away, demand to be taken home or call the police—any rational response to this situation.

“And what am I becoming exactly?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Mine,” he growled, the single word filled with such possession that she felt it reverberate through her body.

The fierce intensity in his eyes was her undoing. The fear, the confusion, and the overwhelming nature of everything faded into the background. In its place surged a hunger she had never experienced—raw, demanding, and urgent.

Her hands moved of their own accord, sliding up his chest to the nape of his neck. His eyes darkened at her touch, his pupils dilating as he watched her make her choice.

“Helena,” her name was a warning on his lips.

She didn’t heed it. Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her mouth to his.

The moment their lips connected, something ignited between them—a spark that wasn’t caused by her newfound powers but by the chemistry that had simmered since their eyes first met in her restaurant. Sol responded instantly, one hand sliding into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he took control of the kiss.

His lips were firm and demanding, claiming hers with a hunger that matched her own. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to her as though afraid he might pull away. But Sol showed no signs of retreating—quite the opposite. He backed her against the wall, his body pressing against hers, surrounding her with his heat and strength.

His lips soon left hers, trailing down her neck with a mix of hunger and precision that made her knees weak. His teeth grazed her skin, sending shivers down her spine, while his hands roamed her curves with a possessiveness that should have alarmed her but instead set her body ablaze. Every touch and every nip made her feel like she was combusting from the inside out.

“Sol,” she gasped, her voice breathless and shaky, her fingers tightening in the fabric of his suit jacket. “What are you?—“

“Just relax.” His voice was low and commanding, and it shut down her protest before it could fully form. “I’m showing you what our connection feels like. You’re mine, Helena. You’ve always been mine.”

His words should have sounded ridiculous, arrogant even, but the way he said them—so certain, so fiercely possessive—made her pulse race. She had never felt like this, like every nerve in her body was alive and on fire. It was as if he had unlocked something deep inside her, something primal and untamed she hadn’t even known existed.

One of his hands slid down to her waist, gripping her firmly as he pulled her closer, his lips never leaving her skin. The other hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over her peaked nipple through the thin fabric of her dress. Helena arched into his touch, a moan escaping her lips before she could stop it.

“You feel that?” he murmured against her neck, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. “That heat? That need?”

Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and desire. She didn’t understand what was happening, but her body didn’t care. It responded to him instinctively, craving his touch, his heat, and his strength. She wanted to protest, to tell him this was too much and too fast, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she found herself clinging to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to explore her with a confidence that left her breathless.

Suddenly, he pulled back slightly, his green eyes locking onto hers. The piercing intensity in his gaze made her stomach clench. “Do you trust me?”

She blinked, her mind scrambling to catch up. “I—I don’t even know you.”

“But you do,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “Your body knows me. Your soul knows me. You just need to let your mind go and feel it.”

Before she could respond, he bent down and scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She let out a surprised yelp, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“Sol, put me down,” she said, though there was no real heat in her voice. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and a part of her was thrilled by this display of raw, alpha male strength.

“Not a chance,” he said, a smirk tugging on his lips as he carried her through the castle. “You’re all mine, Helena. And I’m taking you to where I can show you exactly what that means.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but the look on his face—determined, possessive, and just a little bit wild—silenced her. Instead, she found herself studying his face, the sharp lines of his jaw, and the way his dark hair framed his features. He was impossibly handsome, and the way he held her with such ease and confidence made her feel both protected and utterly claimed.