Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1

by Zoe Chant

  “Sooooo…” the sea dragon began, eying him. “You and Candice.”

  Wystan winced again. He rubbed at his forehead, where a headache was starting to gather. “I would really prefer to discuss another subject, if you don’t mind.”

  “Tough. I do.” Joe draped an arm across Wystan’s shoulders, sparking another pulse of pain through his temples. “You, my horny friend, are in serious need of advice.”

  “With all due respect, I sincerely doubt that you are an expert in persuading a woman to say yes to a life-long commitment,” Wystan snapped, discomfort fraying his patience. “As far as I’m aware, you’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than twelve hours.”

  Joe dismissed this criticism with an airy wave, unoffended. “Every single one of my relationships has lasted exactly as long as I intended, bro. And more importantly, exactly as long as the lady wanted. I have a one hundred per cent success rate of unbroken hearts. And in terms of absolute hours, I’ve racked up enough time in relationships to qualify as a bona fide love doctor. Go on. Hit me.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Wystan muttered. His headache was threatening to turn into a full-blown migraine. “Joe, would you please stand further away?”

  Joe held up his hands, backing off. “Sorry, bro. I didn’t realize your unicorn sensitivity thing was still playing up.”

  “It wasn’t, until a moment ago.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he realized the problem. “It’s Candice. This happens whenever she’s out of my sight. I have no idea why.”

  Joe cocked his head to one side. “Isn’t that obvious? It’s because you need her.”

  “I do, but that doesn’t explain why I feel like I’m being torn apart whenever I leave her side. I thought it might be because she was awakening my unicorn’s powers. But so far there’s no sign of any progress on that front.” He smiled savagely, in black humor, as pain beat through his head. “It’s ironic, really. If I could mate Candice, I could heal. If I could heal, I could mate. And so we’re stuck.”

  “Whoa.” Joe shook his head, frowning. “I think you missed a few steps there. I know you hope that finally claiming your mate will unblock your unicorn’s mojo, but what in the sea does that have to do with winning her in the first place?”

  They’d reached the stream, which was just as clear and inviting as Joe had promised. Crystal water ran smoothly between steep, overhanging banks. Wystan forced back an involuntarily—and arresting—mental vision of how Candice would look, rising from the waist-deep water like a nymph out of legend. Clearing his throat, he shrugged off his pack.

  “Don’t you see?” He knelt to unlace his boots. “If I could unlock my power, I could help Candice. I could heal her scars.”

  Joe’s frown deepened. “Why would you want to do that? She looks bad-ass.”

  Wystan would have gone with ‘breathtakingly stunning’, or perhaps ‘maddeningly attractive’, but he had to concede that Joe’s choice of adjective was also apt.

  “She does indeed. And she knows it. That’s not the issue.” He pulled off his boots, lining them up neatly before standing up to pull his shirt over his head. “It’s nothing about how she looks. It’s about what she sees.”

  Joe folded his arms. “Vague, much?”

  Wystan gazed down at his own reflection, distorted in the rippling water. He picked his words carefully, not wanting to reveal too much of what Candice had told him in confidence. “She was hurt, Joe. Terribly hurt. And she has to face it every day. She said herself, every time she looks in a mirror, she’s reminded of what happened to her. She’s afraid that she’ll never be able to get over that trauma. That it will be a barrier between us forever.”

  Joe came to stand next to him, staring down into the water himself. “And what do you think?”

  Wystan massaged his aching temples. “I think that if she didn’t have to see those scars, she’d be able to let go of her fears. If I could heal, if I could take away that constant reminder…it would solve everything. She would be able to forget the pain in her past. If I healed her, she would love me.”

  Joe looked at him, his face uncharacteristically solemn. The sea dragon reached out, placing one large hand on his shoulder in a silent gesture of understanding and sympathy.

  Then Joe pushed him into the stream.

  It was indeed very clear, very clean, and very, very cold.

  Wystan resurfaced, spluttering. “Joe! What the devil? Why did you do that?”

  “Because you,” Joe said, folding his arms again, “need to go soak your head. For the love of sweet little fishes, will you stop thinking with your horn?”

  Wystan managed to get his feet underneath him, the water-smoothed rocks slippery under his bare soles. “That’s rich, coming from a man who rarely has a thought that originates above his belt.”

  Joe’s sea-blue eyes flashed. Wystan had never seen him genuinely angry before. “You think I can’t understand you? You think I don’t know what it’s like to have impossibly awesome parents? My mother is the Pearl Empress! You think you’re the only person who wrestles with the guilt and pain of being a disappointment? At least you don’t have to do it in public, with an entire council of courtiers and politicians just waiting for you to finally screw up permanently. You think I like having half the entire population of sea shifters whispering about me behind my back, and the other half sneering at me to my face? If you think I can’t understand you, Wystan, then you don’t know me. You don’t know me at all.”

  Wystan sloshed his way to the bank. He held out his hand. “I’m sorry. I know you have your own burdens. I may not understand or agree with all your lifestyle choices, but I don’t truly think that you’re shallow.”

  Joe’s uncharacteristic anger evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. He leaned down to clasp Wystan’s wrist, hauling him out of the water. “Eh, to be fair, you’re supposed to. Not sorry for pushing you into the stream, by the way.”

  Wystan looked down ruefully at his dripping pants. “Well, at least you didn’t ruin my boots. But you may consider my head thoroughly soaked, along with the rest of me. Though I’m not entirely sure why you felt that would be beneficial.”

  Joe let out his breath in a long sigh. “Look, Wystan. How do you think I please so many women?”

  “I try very hard not to think on it at all. And I would honestly rather not know, thank you.”

  “I give them what they need,” Joe said forcefully, ignoring this objection. “Not what I want, or even what I want them to need from me. What. They. Need.”

  Wystan digested this for a moment. “You’re saying…I’m the one who wants Candice to need me to heal her.”

  “Right. That’s what you want.” Joe raised his eyebrows at him, his expression challenging. “But is it what Candice needs? Really?”

  Wystan tipped his head back, staring at the sky. He pictured Candice: Her fierce strength, her boundless compassion, her hidden fears.

  What does she need?

  “Joe,” he said slowly, “you are as shallow as the Atlantic Ocean.”

  “Hey.” Joe gave him a playful shove. “Keep your voice down, or I’ll have to knock you into the stream again. Can’t have you ruining my reputation.”

  Wystan jammed his feet into his boots, not bothering to bend to do up the laces. “I have to find Candice. Right now.”

  Joe beamed. “There, see? Now aren’t you glad I dunked you? Thanks to me, you’ve come to your senses and you don’t stink.”

  “Thank you. On both accounts.” Wystan hesitated, looking back at him curiously. “Joe? Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” Joe put a hand to his chest, striking a pose. “I can’t help being this effortlessly awesome, bronicorn.”

  Wystan made an exasperated gesture at him. “Do that. You truly aren’t as frivolous as you try to appear. And you just said you don’t enjoy the way other sea shifters sneer you for your playboy ways. Why do you work so hard to cultivate a reputation for foolishness and hedonism?”
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br />   Joe shrugged, his smile free and easy as always. “Isn’t that obvious? Who wouldn’t want to bed a different beautiful woman every night?”

  Wystan cocked an eyebrow at him. “That’s different to saying that it’s what you want.”

  Joe’s cocky grin flickered, just a fraction. “Why would I do it, if it wasn’t what I wanted?”

  “I don’t know. And you’re still not saying that it’s what you want.”

  Joe pushed him again, this time in the direction of the trees. “Go to your mate, bronicorn. You need each other. Don’t let anything come between you.”

  Wystan gave up, allowing Joe to shoo him away. “Well, I just hope that you meet your mate one day. And that she isn’t put off by your past.”

  Joe’s smile didn’t waver, but something changed in his eyes. For the briefest moment, Wystan saw straight through that light, dazzling surface, into the fathomless depths below.

  “I don’t,” Joe said quietly, not sounding at all like his usual self. “That’s the whole point.”

  Chapter 28

  Candice’s nerves wound tighter with every step. She hoped that Blaise’s supernatural shifter senses couldn’t pick up on how much her palms were sweating.

  “Uh, hey, Blaise?” she said when she couldn’t last another second. “Um, actually I’ve changed my mind. I’m gonna go find Wystan. I need to…share his soap after all.”

  Blaise swung around, a wide grin breaking across her face. “Thanks. That’s saved us both from a very awkward conversation. I was prepared to wrestle you to the ground and put you in an armlock in order to force you to hear me out.”

  Candice was pretty sure Blaise wasn’t joking. “You were going to tell me more childhood stories about Wystan?”

  “Nah, I was going to yell at you to leap on him like a sex-starved cougar,” Blaise said matter-of-factly. “I love Wystan, but that man does not know how to open up. He’ll never show it, but I know all this has been killing him.”

  Candice fidgeted uncomfortably. “He said he would wait as long as I needed.”

  “Yeah. He would. Doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t be dying inside the whole time. I’m glad you’re going to put him out of his misery.” Blaise’s smile faded. “Assuming you aren’t going to destroy him, that is.”

  “I’m not.” Candice swallowed the lump in her throat. “Ever.”

  “Good.” Blaise’s white teeth flashed again. “Because I like you. I would hate to have to kill you.”

  Candice forced a matching smile. “Enjoy your bath. Do me a favor and take your time, okay? Otherwise it’s going to be obvious to everyone that Wystan and I have snuck away together. It may sound dumb, but I’d rather not have the rest of the squad speculating about what we’re doing while we’re actually doing it, y’know?”

  Blaise stretched her jaw in an exaggerated yawn. “Such a nice afternoon. I might take a nap by the stream. A long nap.”

  With a parting wink, Blaise sauntered off. Candice waited until she was out of sight before pulling out her compass. Settling her pack on her shoulders, she started walking—not in the direction of camp, but back down the mountain.

  Sorry, Blaise. She hated to have to mislead the hotshot, who—death threats aside—had been nothing but friendly to her. But it wasn’t really a lie. I’m not going to destroy Wystan.

  Even if it meant breaking his heart.

  She blinked hard, fighting back the moisture threatening to blur her vision. She forced herself to pick up her pace, pushing through undergrowth. She couldn’t waste this chance. She didn’t know how far Callum could sense people. Her only hope was to put as much distance between herself and the camp before he woke up and alerted the squad that she was gone. With enough of a head start, she could get back to her truck before they caught up with her.

  And then she could disappear.

  She’d miss working with Bethany, but there was nothing else tying her to California. Her crappy one-room apartment was just a place to sleep. She didn’t have any family to miss her. She could just pick a direction and go. Wherever she went, there would be animals who needed her.

  She wished that she could have said goodbye to the squad properly. She wished she could have hugged Flash one last time. She wished she could have told Wystan…

  Candice pressed her lips together, squashing the useless regrets back down. Everything was going to be fine. Flash was safely back with her herd. Soon the baby unicorn would be reunited with her mother as well as her father. The squad didn’t need her help to drive out the demon.

  And Wystan…Wystan would be better off without her.

  Eventually, he’d realize that. His unicorn was everything to him. She couldn’t let him risk losing his animal, his magic, his very identity. Not for her.

  “Candice! Wait!”

  Oh no. No, no, no. Her heart seized at Wystan’s shout. Why had he come after her?

  There was no point trying to pretend she hadn’t heard. She set her shoulders, steeling herself. She’d selfishly hoped to save herself this pain by sneaking away, but she had to do this. It was for his own good.

  “Don’t try to stop me, Wystan,” she started, turning. “I—“

  All her carefully-marshalled objections flew out of her head.

  He halted in front of her, bare chest heaving. He must have been running flat out to catch up. “You’re leaving.”

  “You’re half-naked and dripping wet,” she blurted out.

  “Joe pushed me into the stream.” He pushed his hair back from his face, water-darkened spikes sticking out in all directions in wild disarray. “Thankfully. Where are you going?”

  “Away. Somewhere. Anywhere.” Hard enough to do this to his face. It was practically impossible to do it when he was shirtless, soaking, and disheveled. She scrunched her eyes shut. “Just let me go, Wystan. This isn’t going to work. I can’t be what you need.”

  “You are what I need, Candice. You’re my mate.” She heard him take a step closer. “But that’s not the most important thing.”

  She risked a peek at him, trying to work out what he was talking about. “It’s not?”

  “No.” He was very close now, close enough that she could see droplets of water clinging to the damp curve of his bare neck. “I’ve been going about this all backwards, Candice. I’ve only been thinking of what I want, what I need. I’ve been so fixated on what I can’t do that I’ve ignored what I can do.”

  Her mouth had gone dry. “What’s that?”

  “Ask you.” His green eyes were deep and clear and certain. “What do you want, Candice?”

  She looked down at her boots. “To be a different person,” she muttered.

  “No.” He touched her chin, gently making her raise her head once more. “That’s what you think I need. And it’s not. Try again.”

  He was barely touching her, but his presence wrapped around her like strong, comforting arms. In that safe, quiet space, she could only speak the truth. “I want you.”

  “Good,” he said, very softly. “Because I want you too, desperately. And what do you need?”

  “I need…” She hesitated, searching her own heart. “I need to take this one day at a time, Wystan.”

  He was holding very still, as though she was a wild animal who might run away if he made the slightest motion. “I can do that.”

  “No, you can’t,” she said bleakly. “You told me yourself, you need someone who can promise you forever. I’m never going to be able to do that. I can’t—”

  “Candice.” He laid his thumb across her mouth, silencing her protests. “That’s all forever is. One day at a time, one after another. Every day, choosing to stay. One day at a time.”

  “But that’s not how it works for you,” she said, lips brushing against his warm skin. Just that light friction made her tremble with desire. “That’s not the kind of love you need.”

  He traced the shape of her mouth, and her knees buckled. “That’s the only kind there is.”

  Slowly, hol
ding her gaze the entire time, he leaned closer. His mouth touched hers—lightly at first, then deeper as she opened to him. He kissed her unhurriedly, but with utter confidence, savoring and lingering as if they had all the time in the world.

  As if they had all eternity.

  Her backpack dropped to the ground with a thud. She wound her arms around his neck, the slow, certain strokes of his tongue setting her on fire. She pulled him deeper, consumed with the need for more. He made a deliciously feral sound deep in his throat, his kisses becoming wilder, hungrier. Her own desire leaped as he matched her stroke for stroke, nipping and biting.

  His hands found her waist. He pulled her tight against his body, swinging around to back her up against the nearest tree. Heat shot through her as he pinned her between the hard trunk and his even harder body.

  “Wait,” she managed to gasp into his mouth. Dizzying need pulsed between her legs, but she wrenched her face to one side, breaking the kiss. “We can’t—“

  “Stay with me.” Wystan’s hips pressed against hers. He kissed down her neck, open-mouthed and fierce, over scars and skin alike. “Be with me. Not forever. Now. One day at a time. One breath at a time. Just choose me, with every beat of your heart, as I choose you. That’s enough. That’s everything. Oh Candice, my mate, Candice.”

  One breath at a time. She let go of all her fears, letting them fly away like lost balloons. She didn’t need to worry about forever. She could love him now, completely, with all her soul.

  And that was enough.

  “Yes.” She tipped her head back, giving him her throat, giving him everything. Just for this breath, and this one, and this one… “Wystan. Yes.”

  She’d imagined that Wystan would be a sensitive, gentle lover. She’d pictured those sensitive hands exploring her body shyly, sweetly, that endearing flush staining his cheeks as she showed him how to please her.

  She hadn’t pictured this.

  He was about as hesitant as a stallion scenting a mare in heat. She yelped as he tore her shirt right off her body, seams ripping under his inhuman strength. His hands scooped her up effortlessly, lifting her so that he could plunge his face into her breasts. Her surprise was washed away in a blaze of pleasure as his mouth found her nipple.