CHAPTER FIVE: THE FIRE BETWEEN US
1080 Words
The morning sunlight filtered through Amira’s blinds im fine golden slants but she couldn’t feel its warmth.
She stood in her office, staring at the city before anyone else arrived, hands clasped behind her back, staring at the city that sprawled beneath the glass.
The day after the board vote should’ve felt like victory. Instead, it felt like the aftermath of a Pack skirmish. The tension was coiled and watching.
There was no celebration. No relief.
The door creaked open.
“Morning, darling,” her Alpha father’s voice said gently.
“I wanted to see you before the calls start.” He walked toward her.
“You handled yourself well yesterday.”
She hesitated. “You mean because of Korede?”
He gave a tired sigh. "He's not the boy he was, Amira. His power is undeniable."
“And I’m not the girl I was.”
There was silence. Then he nodded once and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to like his return. But you do have to lead through it.”
“I know.”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze, then turned to go but paused at the door.
“Amira,” he said quietly, “there’s something I never told you about that night the attack.”
Her breath caught. “Which night” she asked,
“You know which” he answered
She turned fully “Why now?”
“Because Korede’s return isn’t the only thing we’re navigating, the board thinks your succession is premature. They question your Alpha strength after the failure to secure the majority vote.
He then confessed: He came to me. Confessed in pieces. It was an accident. He was playing with the fuse box, thought he could fix a blackout.”
“And you buried the truth of the Pack failure.”
“I protected what was left of us.”
“You protected him the Beta who killed my brother, the Heir,” she whispered. “And I’ve spent every day since pretending I didn’t see him standing there, frozen while the house burned.”
He winced. “You were just a child.”
“I was a witness.”
Neither said another word. Then he walked out, slower than before.
Later, while reviewing procurement reports, Layla burst into her office.
“It’s about Korede.”
“I know you don’t trust him,” Layla said. “But the way you shut him down yesterday? It wasn’t just professional. The tension between you two is physical.”
“It was necessary.”
“He’s trying. He’s coming back into a world that once rejected him.”
Layla frowned.
“You talk like you know something no one else does, like you can scent the truth.”
“But you won’t tell me why,” Layla said, her voice rising. “Why does it feel like everyone in this family is playing a part in a story I never got to read?”
Amira stood. “Because some pages are better left unread. He is a powerful, dangerous Beta, Layla. Stay away from him.”
Layla looked hurt. “That’s not fair.”
“I’m not trying to be fair. I’m trying to protect you.”
Layla stared for a long moment, then turned and walked out.
That night, the memory seized her fully.
The smoke was like a wall, thick, angry, alive. Her brother’s laughter had echoed just minutes before, chasing her through the hallway.
Then came the smell.
Then came the heat.
She remembered crawling. Tiny knees scraped. A picture frame shattered nearby. And Korede, not much older, standing with his hands out as if trying to push the flames back with nothing but guilt.
Someone screamed her name. But she stayed in the closet.
Stayed hidden.
Stayed silent.
The next morning, Korede returned. No folder. No pitch. Just himself.
“Still no apology?” she asked without looking up.
“I’m not here to win points.”
“Then what are you here for?”
“I wanted to explain. Properly.” He looked directly into her eyes, the magnetic pull of the mate bond almost unbearable. “That night… I didn’t start the fire on purpose. I was trying to fix something.”
“And desperate to be seen.”
“And my brother paid the price for that?”
“I didn’t know it would go so far. I froze. I panicked.”
“You ran.”
“Yes,” he admitted. "And when I came back, your father told me never to speak of it. That it was better for the Pack's image."
“And now you want absolution?”
“I want clarity. And… maybe forgiveness.”
She stood. “Forgiveness isn’t mine to give. You got a one-way ticket out of consequence while I was left here with the Pack's silent burden.”
He was quiet for a long time. Then: “You’re right.”
She hadn’t expected him to say it. The absence of denial shook her more than a defense ever could.
Still, she didn’t soften.
“I’ll work with you because I have to. But don’t mistake necessity for peace. I will never forgive you for what you did to my brother, and I will never accept the mate bond that connects us.”
Korede stood. His voice was low, and Amira felt the primal ache of rejection deep in her bones.
“I never did.”
Amira sank into her chair.
Outside, the city buzzed. But inside her, there was ash.
She reached for her phone and quickly sent a message to Tariq: Meet me at the usual spot. Now.
All her life, she’d been told to be still. Be good. Be strong in silence. But now the memory of the fire, the sudden orange blaze, her brother's scream, the scraping of the door, and the knowledge of her father's lie was too much.
She had to see Tariq. She needed the safety of his human touch to remind her what she was fighting for, and to push back against the terrifying, primal pull of her destined mate.
Amira raced out of the office, desperate for Tariq’s sanctuary. But as she rounded the corner toward the elevator, she stopped dead. Korede was waiting, leaning against the wall. “Going somewhere, Amira?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with unsettling possessiveness. “I need to talk to you about the source code. Now.”
- Writer
