Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew #1)(65)

She barely seemed to be aware of any of them. She’d been laughing and relaxed at the start of the job, but her confident air had evaporated as the line lengthened. Now she hacked at the ground with single-minded focus, as though the forest floor had done her a personal injury.

Maybe Blaise was just tense because she too had figured out that they weren’t cutting line fast enough. But in that case, why hadn’t she said anything? In training, she’d never hesitated to comment if she felt someone wasn’t performing their best. Everyone respected her.

Yes, Edith decided with a twinge of relief. Blaise should be the one to quietly point out to Rory that they needed to change their strategy. She was a confident veteran firefighter, and a shifter. He would listen to his old friend.

She sidled over to Blaise and cleared her throat. The other woman didn’t look up.

“Blaise.” When Blaise didn’t react, she tentatively put a hand on her arm, stopping her swing. “Blaise? Can we…”

She trailed off. Blaise’s bicep was as rigid as iron. She was gripping her Pulaski so tightly, Edith could see her hands shaking. Her breath rasped between her teeth.

Edith knew only too well what an imminent meltdown looked like. She grabbed Blaise’s tool, wrenching it away. “Blaise!”

Blaise’s eyes were wide and unfocused. Flames reflected in their dark depths…even though she was facing away from the approaching fire.

“Burning,” she said dreamily. “Burning.”

“Rory!” Edith shrieked.

He was at her side so fast, his chainsaw blade hadn’t come to a complete stop. He took one look at Blaise and threw the tool aside. He snapped his fingers in front of her slack face.

“Look at me,” he commanded. There was something odd about his voice, an awful jarring note like claws scraping over a blackboard. “Look at me.”

Blaise’s head turned like a puppet on a string. When she spoke, she sounded both more and less like herself. More, because at least it wasn’t that alien sleepwalking drone…and less, because her voice had gone high and tight with fear.

“Rory,” Blaise gasped. “It’s too close. Help.”

“You are in control. You will not shift unless you want to.” Rory gripped Blaise’s face between his palms, his golden eyes locked on hers. “You will not shift. You are in control.”

A shudder went through Blaise’s whole body. She relaxed at last, slumping forward. Rory caught her in a hug.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice softening back into his usual deep, warm register. “We’re here. We’ve got you. Do you need to get off the fireline?”

“No.” Blaise stepped away, back straightening. “I’ve got it locked down again now. Thanks for the assist.” She turned to Edith. “And thanks for realizing something was wrong. Even though you didn’t know what.”

“No problem,” Edith said, relieved that Blaise seemed to be back to normal. “What was it, a panic attack?”

“Something like that.” Blaise reclaimed her Pulaski. “Let’s get back to work. We’re running out of time to get this line finished.”

“It’s too late already,” Edith blurted out. “We aren’t going to make it.”

Rory blew out his breath, his mouth setting in a grim line. “We’ll just have to step up the pace.”

His physical closeness made the mate bond glow brighter in her heart. The steady warmth bolstered her courage.

“It’s not going to work, Rory.” She took his hand, a little thrill shooting through her just from that small contact. “Can we talk?”

“Five minute break!” Rory called to the rest of the squad. He let her draw him aside. “Are you holding up okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m barely working up a sweat, to be honest.” She lowered her voice. “But I’m the only one who’s holding it together. I don’t know why, but no one is working effectively. Look at them.”

His jaw clenched. She could sense that he accepted the truth of her words. Her stomach churned with his worry and…guilt?

“Why do you think that this is your fault?” she asked, confused.

“Because it is.” He took off his helmet, raking a hand through his damp hair. “I’m the squad boss. And more than that, I’m the alpha. It’s a shifter thing. Like in a wolf pack.”

Edith frowned. “I thought that whole alpha-beta-omega status theory had been discredited.”

“For regular wolves, maybe. But it’s true for shifters. We tend to be strongly hierarchical. And you’ve seen how we share thoughts. Emotions bleed through too. I think I’m throwing everyone off their game. Because…because I’m distracted.”

She felt as though someone had whipped the ground out from under her feet. “You’re distracted because of me.”

He looked miserable. He also didn’t deny it.

It was her old crew all over again. Once again, her very nature made her the weak point. She’d been so caught up in her joy over mating Rory, and her relief at finally having all their mutual secrets out in the open, that she hadn’t stopped to consider what it actually meant to be the only human on the all-shifter crew.

No wonder he was half out of his mind with worry. He loved her—she’d never doubt that—but the fact remained that he’d seen her in full meltdown. He knew how much she struggled with things other people found trivial.