Ash—the Phoenix Eternal, the man who commanded the respect of even the most powerful shifters, the veteran firefighter who calmly walked into deadly danger as a matter of routine—flinched. His shoulders jerked as though her words had been a blow, driving all the air out of his lungs.
“I thought that you were content enough.” He made a slight gesture around at the pub. “You do not lack for company.”
“It’s not enough.” Rose blew out her breath in a long sigh. “I thought it was, but…Ash, I’ve stood here and served drink after drink to happy mated couples, and each time I do something inside me grows colder and darker. I’m not proud of it, but I’m jealous, and it’s eating up my soul. I can’t help it. I want what they have.”
Ash stared down at his clasped hands, resting on the bar counter. His knuckles whitened.
“I would give anything,” he said, very quietly, “to be able to bring your mate back to you.”
“I know you would,” Rose said, her own throat tightening with the old pain. “But no one can do that. Whoever he was, he’s gone now.”
She’d told Ash the story before, many years ago. Swans were renowned among shifter-kind for always being able to find their mates. Every swan just knew, when the time was right, where to go to find him or her.
Rose had felt that pull herself, when she’d been younger. She’d set off joyfully, certain of finding her happily-ever-after.
Only to wake up one cold, bleak morning to echoing silence in her soul. No mate calling to her. No instinct pulling her on.
Just silence, and her swan’s deep, heartbroken grief.
The wound was still sharp and raw, even twenty years later. Rose swallowed hard, forcing the bitter memory back down.
“My mate died before I could meet him,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I have to be alone forever.”
Ash’s eyes closed, as if in pain. “Rose,” he said, his voice a barely-audible rasp.
It was now or never. Rose summoned up her courage, her heart beating fast as she reached across the bar. Ignoring her swan’s muffled cry of protes
t, she rested her hand on top of his.
“It doesn’t mean you have to be alone forever,” she said softly.
She’d never touched Ash like this before, in all the years that they’d been friends. Oh, she’d tapped him on the shoulder or caught his sleeve often enough—even kicked him in the ankle on more than one occasion, when he was being particularly insufferable—but no more than that. He was so fiercely private, even the most casual gesture of affection was unthinkable.
Now, a strange tingle shot through her palm at the feel of his bare skin against hers. She caught her breath, a wave of longing crashing over her. The emotion was so intense, she couldn’t tell whether it was Ash’s or her own.
His skin burned against hers, as if she was holding her hand out to a roaring bonfire. But it was a welcome heat, warming her entire body. It was like she’d been frozen solid, never knowing how cold she truly was, until his fire thawed her.
Not our mate, her swan said again.
“Ash,” she whispered.
His fingers stirred under hers. Gently but firmly, he pulled his hand away.
“No,” he said.
Her hand felt cold, bereft of his heat. She yearned to reach out to him again, but he stood abruptly, turning his back on her. His spine was a straight, rigid line, every muscle tense.
“No,” he said again, harsh and rough. “I am not your mate, Rose.”
She wished that the bar wasn’t still between them. She longed to touch his shoulder, to see if her empathic sense really had penetrated his armor, but she was pretty sure he’d bolt for the door if she moved.
“I know that,” she said, trying not to let on how her heart was pounding just from that brief contact. “And if…if you met your true mate, I wouldn’t keep you from her. I’m not asking for that sort of bond, Ash. I know that’s impossible. But maybe…maybe we could both be a little less lonely. Together.”
His fist clenched at his side, shaking. He stared at the door, but made no move toward it.
Was he hesitating? Hope rose in Rose’s chest.
“We’re more than our animals, Ash.” She spoke quickly, as though she could throw words over him like a net. “We can still choose for ourselves. I want you, not my swan.”