Firefighter Phoenix (Fire & Rescue Shifters 7)
East Sussex Fire and Rescue Service.
She stuffed her former uniform into the bag next to her on the bed. “I was just packing up the last of my old work gear. Can you ask someone to take them back to the station for me?”
Her mother was silent for a long moment.
“You can’t hide up here forever, love,” her mother said at last, very gently. “You should go yourself.”
Just the thought of facing everyone again—the stares, the whispers, the pity—made her throat tighten. Every shifter in the fire service was down there. They all knew what she’d done.
What they didn’t know was how easily she could do it again.
“I can’t.” She pushed the bag into her mother’s hands. “Please?”
Her mother blew out her breath, but accepted the sack. “Your friends are asking after you. Are you sure you won’t come down to the party?”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“I thought you’d say that.” Her mother went to the door again, opening it. “Which is why I told them to come up.”
Her heart lurched sideways in her chest. Rory stood there, broad and stocky, with that familiar big-brother look of concern in his golden eyes. Others crowded behind him—Wystan, Joe, even Cal. All her old childhood friends.
She only had an instant to gape at them before the biggest dog she’d ever seen knocked them all aside. Before she knew what was happening, a cold wet nose shoved under her hand. The dog whined low in his throat, thick black tail wagging hopefully.
Her mother smiled at her. “I think you should listen to what they have to say.”
She stared at Rory. “You can’t be serious.”
“Utterly.” His mouth quirked. “Apparently a proper pack needs an alpha female. And you’re the most alpha female I know.”
“Uh.” Joe raised a tentative hand, something clearly preying on his mind. “Rory, if you’re the alpha male, does that mean…?”
She spluttered in knee-jerk disgust. To her relief, Rory looked equally appalled.
“Joe, she’s like a little sister to me,” he said, in scandalized tones. “I’d rather screw you.”
“Well, obviously.” Joe smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt. “Who wouldn’t?”
Despite everything, the familiar banter brought a smile to her face. Fenrir, evidently noticing, wagged his tail harder. His nose was still firmly planted under her hand.
A little tentatively, she stroked his pointed, wolf-like ears. The enormous hellhound wriggled like a puppy, tail thumping hard against the ground.
*Pack?* The voice in her mind was so faint, she might have been imagining it. *We are pack?*
Her smile faded.
“I can’t,” she said, dropping her hand from the hellhound’s head. “Rory, didn’t you hear what happened? I can’t be a firefighter. Not ever again.”
“Yes, you can.” A hint of a growl entered his voice. “You were born to be a firefighter. You can’t throw that away, just because of one…incident. I know you’re scared. I’ve been there myself. But if you run and hide, you’ll lose who you are. You have to accept the fear, and use it to make yourself stronger.”
Those deep, rumbling words seemed to pass straight through her ears and grab hold of her spine, forcing it to stiffen. She found that her shoulders had straightened, without any conscious thought.
She remembered that voice. From when she’d been little, and the three years between them had made him seem like a vast, golden god, delivering commandments from on high: Of course you can climb that tree. Of course you can pass that exam. You can do anything. I believe in you.
“You just have to trust yourself,” Rory said, in those unshakable, unarguable tones. He leaned forward, his golden eyes intent. “Like we trust you.”
She looked round at them all. Joe, utterly serious for once, looking oddly like his fat
her as he gave her a slight, solemn nod. Wystan’s kind, intelligent face, quiet understanding in his eyes. Cal, scowling, affecting indifference, but there.