DEMETRIA

“Wildfire.”

The word drifted through my half-sleep, pulling me out of the warmth of my dreams. My lashes fluttered, and the first thing I saw was Marion standing by the side of the bed, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips. The morning sun poured through the glass windows, making him look like something I should have never been allowed to touch, too untouchable, too dangerous. And yet, here he was, waking me.

I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. “Marion, it’s too ...