Free Motivation (Shifters Forever After# 3) by Elle Thorne Page A

Christmas day?” Aunt Miriam frowned. “It’s a holiday. A federal holiday.”
    “Criminals don’t take a holiday, Miriam.” Uncle Mikhail kissed her on the cheek. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
    “Me t—” Jonah froze.
    No. It couldn’t be.
    Fiona Forester.
    Here.
    Here to fuck my life up. As if it’s not fucked up enough.
    He clenched his jaw, fought the urge to make tight fists and drive them through the wall.
    He wished he could scent her. He wished he could have known she was here in advance. He couldn’t have.
    He studied the woman who’d taken his heart ages ago. The woman he’d almost taken as his mate. The woman who still had his heart, except now it was in shambles—a desolate barren environment where nothing grew.
    His broken heart was one thing, but his cock sure as hell wasn’t broken.
    His loins burned with the need to be deep within her again. She was his mate. He mourned her. Her blond hair was pulled back, exposing the neck he used to love to kiss and nibble on. The neck that led to that spot near her shoulder where he’d almost couple-bonded her the night before she broke it off between them.
    Her gaze was concentrated on the fork that had cracked the dinner plate. He didn’t need preternatural shifter vision to see that she’d broken Aunt Miriam’s fine china.
    Fiona’s eyes glistened, as if she were fighting tears, those blue eyes he’d loved looking into, the blue eyes he’d gotten lost in so many times.
    Not tears for me, that’s for sure. She’s the one who dumped me.
    He nodded at her, though he knew his eyes were throwing lethal weapons.
    Fiona looked down, her eyelashes casting shadows on her high cheekbones. Her expression sparked an emotion in him.
    It took everything he had not to run to her, to take her into his arms, to claim her.
    Instead he turned to his aunt. “You’ve been busy.” He let his tone carry that it wasn’t lost on him that she’d manipulated the situation to have Fiona here. Oh, yeah, he blamed his aunt for this for sure.
    And of course, it figures that of all the people in the world, the one who knows me best would be here…
    …at a time like this.
    The worst time of all.
    Ever.

2
    F iona took stock of Jonah . The years had been kind to him. Oh, who was she kidding; the man would look good no matter what. To her anyway. Dirty blond hair, with those startling cornflower eyes, a wide chest that looked like it still rippled into the vee she’d known oh-so-damned well for the best two years of her life.
    She bit the sigh back, a sigh at the effect he still had on her.
    She waited for her falcon to calm down while Jonah was throwing machetes at her with his eyes. Those light blue eyes, once so caring, once glowing with love for her.
    Now?
    Hatred. Pure undisguised hatred.
    Finally, her falcon slowed down and dropped the volume enough for Fiona to pick out a word or two of what it yelled at her.
    Bear? What’s wrong with his bear?
    Her falcon began that infernal screeching.
    You have got to stop that and communicate with me.
    The shrieking began to die down.
    What do you mean his bear’s not there? How can that be?
    But in her heart, Fiona knew something was up. She didn’t sense his arrival. She didn’t know he was there until she heard his voice.
    But his bear couldn’t be gone.
    That’s not how it works.
    How did it work?

----
    M iriam replaced her cracked plate and acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but Fiona knew her good china mattered to her. It had been handed down for generations. She wished she could sink into the flooring.
    Dinner was an exercise in torture.
    Fiona didn’t look up from her meal, but at the same time couldn’t have named a single item on her plate. She’d mixed it, stirred it, moved it around, but none of it made its way to her mouth.
    She was very aware of his presence across from her, even if she couldn’t feel his bear.
    She hoped they’d have a break between dinner and dessert so she could talk to Jonah.