Burning to Ashes by Evi Asher

bed, she saw Archer who was lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head as if he was relaxing on the beach, the other lying across his bared stomach.
    Scarlet swallowed the groan of appreciation that rose in her throat. The werewolf was a beautiful creature, like a living piece of sculpture, every plane and hollow of his form chiseled to perfection.
    And he wants to get it on with you. You don’t realize how lucky you are, woman.
    Scarlet made a rude sound at her inner voice, her hand flying to her mouth when Archer shifted in his sleep.
    Time to get out of the room.
    She tiptoed to the door, feeling like she was doing one of those exaggerated sneak maneuvers she’d seen in spoof movies. She turned the knob slowly and tugged the door open.
    To her relief, it didn’t make a sound. She slipped out of the room and pulled the door closed behind her.
    Scarlet held her breath to listen to hear if anyone else was up, but she didn’t hear anything.
    Good. Now to get to the bathroom before you flood the damn place.
    She turned left, looked up and stopped.
    The swinging doors from the diner side of the building opened up and Heath walked through, his head down as he studied the map clutched in his left hand. In his right, was a red coffee mug that read, Screw Morning People . His blond curls were sleep-tousled, and his feet were bare.
    Scarlet cleared her throat, and his head jerked up. “Oh, evening, Scarlet were you looking for some coffee—” His stare went blank, the map, and coffee mug crashing to the floor. He took two strides towards her, and raised his hands to hold her face in his palms.
    Scarlet found herself frozen in place, her eyes locked on his as they swirled. Silver and gold formed a maelstrom in this irises, his pupils disappearing in the eddies his irises caused.
    She heard the door behind her open with force, but she was still unable to move.
    Heath spoke, and his voice was like something that came from beyond the grave. “I see…” A frown furrowed his brow, and he seemed confused. “Pink? Yes, pink, the darkest shade of pink is a name, the lightest is a color.”
    Scarlet was drawn deeper into his swirling gaze. “Without pink, you will find no answers, and answers will provide more questions. Questions will give no answers. I see turbulence, I see fire—lots of fire, I see ash…”
    Scarlet felt Archer’s heat pressed to her back, his hands curled around her upper arms as if he knew what was coming.
    Heath released her face, and Scarlet sank into Archer as he steadied her weight. She felt drained, as if someone had found a plug in her ankle and pulled it out, and all her energy had swirled away.
    Archer pulled her further back into his arms as Heath stepped back. His mouth pulled as he asked. “What did I say this time?”
    “You don’t know?” Scarlet felt her eyes widen. “How can you not know?”
    “It doesn’t work that way. I never remember what I said. It’s like a hypnotist’s trance, something tells me to forget. So, what did I say?”
    “You spoke about questions and answers, and fire and ash, and a lot of pink,” Archer replied.
    Heath nodded, “Remember everything I said, Scarlet. Let it burn into your memory, because I don’t trance out unless it’s important? You picking up what I’m putting down?”
    She nodded, feeling her strength return in slow measures.
    “I’ll remember what you said.”
    “Good.” He turned and saw the mess the full coffee mug had made. “Shit,” he spat. “That was my favorite coffee mug.”
    Stepping around the cup, Heath pushed through the swing doors to go get something to clean the mess.
    When Heath was gone, Archer squeezed Scarlet’s arms, and cradled her back against his chest. “Still mad at me?”
    She stepped away from him. “No…yes.” She turned toward him. “No, I guess, but stop trying to make my decisions for me.”
    He reached for her to pull her into his arms, and she stepped back out of his reach.
    “No! What