W.I.L.D.
“You think fire scares me? You forget what I am?”
Her laugh cracked, bitter. “Then you’re a fool.”
“Maybe,” he allowed, taking another step closer, “but I’m your fool.”
Something in her chest ached. She wanted to reach for him, but the fire snarled, dragging her back. She dug her fingers into the earth to steady herself. “Tyler, it won’t listen. It—it’s not mine anymore.”
He crouched low, keeping his distance but holding her gaze. “That’s the point, isn’t it? Fire isn’t meant to be owned. It’s meant to be met. Matched. You don’t cage it—you stand with it.”
Bab Populer