by Zoe Chant
He was still warm. She cradled his head in her lap, smoothing back his graying hair. Her fingertips traced the beloved lines of his face.
Now, she said, to her swan.
Her animal hesitated. It huddled down as though protecting an egg. But he is ours. Our mate.
Yes. Rose stroked her animal, coaxing its black wings open. And we need to put him back where he belongs.
Reluctantly, her swan stepped back, yielding. Carefully, Rose gathered up what her animal had been guarding.
A spark, a mote, nearly lost in the Phoenix’s eternal flame. But to her, it burned brightest of all.
Bending down, she pressed her lips to his.
And breathed Ash’s soul back into his body.
Chapter 25
The Phoenix’s fire streamed out of her, following Ash’s soul like the tail of a comet. She let it go gladly, releasing the borrowed power. No matter how glorious it was, she was comfortable with her own self. She had no desire to be permanently transfigured into something different.
Yet not all the power left. A bright, fiery thread remained, stretching out from her soul. She could feel it, deep in her heart, a bond that would never be broken again.
Underneath her palm, Ash’s chest rose. He drew in a slow, calm breath, as though he’d merely been sleeping. His hand came up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her further down, deepening the kiss.
“He’s alive!” Hayley squawked.
Rose pulled away, laughing, as everyone crowded around them. “All right, all right, get back or he won’t stay alive!”
She flapped her hands, shooing Alpha Team away. Five anxious firefighters were far too many muscles to try to cram into one small space. “The poor man’s been dead, for pity’s sake. Let him catch his breath.”
Hugh elbowed through the crush, kneeling next to Ash. “Don’t move. I need to check you over.”
“I am quite well.” Ash tried to sit up, but was firmly shoved down again by the paramedic. With a slight, wry smile, he submitted to Hugh’s quick, practiced inspection.
“Well.” Hugh sat back on his heels, somehow managing to look simultaneously jubilant and exasperated. “In my professional medical opinion, this man is definitely alive.”
“He doesn’t need your help?” Neridia said, her voice high and tight.
“As I said, I am perfectly fine.” Ash pushed himself up at last, waving away half a dozen outstretched hands. Even the place where his binding had been was just an old, pale scar, completely healed.
“Good.” Neridia paused, catching her breath with an odd, guttural grunt. “In that case…Hugh, could you please help me?”
“Neridia, are you in labor?” Rose exclaimed.
“I…” Neridia swayed, doubling over. John surged to her side, supporting her in his strong arms. “I think…I need…Hugh!”
The paramedic leaped to his feet. “Right. No need to panic,” he said, though his expression did not entirely match his words. “It’s your first baby, we have plenty of time to get you somewhere more comfortable. There’s no danger of anything happening until the contractions are two minutes apart.”
“Hugh,” Neridia gritted out, through clenched teeth. “That was ten minutes ago.”
Hugh’s face went as white as his hair. “Bloody hellfire, woman, why didn’t you say?!”
Caught in the throes of another contraction, Neridia could only shoot him a look. It was, however, a very eloquent one.
“My mate, my heart, all will be well.” A reassuring melody wound around John’s words, filled with harmonics of love and comfort. His face was rigidly calm, but Rose could sense the panic beating against his ribs. “Shield-brother, time grows short. What should we do?”
“Not be here!” Hugh raked both hands through his hair, looking around wildly as though hoping a fully stocked ambulance might drop from the sky. “She can’t have a baby in the middle of this!”
The menagerie was a blasted wasteland around them. Many of the iron cages were twisted and wrecked, melted by fire or acid. Soot swirled through the air. Scattered fires still burned around the edges of the courtyard.
Rose raised her eyebrows at Ash. Catching her meaning, he nodded, then glanced casually around.
The flames winked out, all at once.
Ash exhaled. “Better?”
“It’s an improvement,” Hugh growled. He was busy running glowing hands over Neridia’s stomach, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Though ‘not actively on fire’ is a pretty low bar to clear.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Neridia gasped. Sweat beaded her skin. “I don’t want to have a baby. Someone stop it, please.”
Virginia and Dai exchanged a wry look. “I remember this bit,” the dragon shifter murmured.
“Thankfully, I don’t.” Virginia took Neridia’s hands, rubbing them soothingly. “It’s going to be okay, Neridia. You’ll forget the pain once your baby’s here. I promise.”
“Nope. Not doing this,” Neridia announced. Despite her matter-of-fact tone, her eyes had gone rather wild and unfocused. “Going for a swim instead.”
Head held regally high, she tried to walk off. John lunged to intercept her. He swept her off her feet, holding her fast despite her semi-incoherent protests.
“Careful,” Griff warned. “As I recall, the next stage involves trying to take a bite out of you, as punishment for doing this to her.”
“I can’t be blamed for that,” Hayley protested. “I was having twins.”
Chase looked at his own mate’s pregnant belly, his expression suddenly rather alarmed. “I’m going to need a suit of armor.”
“What we need right now is a bed,” Hugh snarled. “Or at least something more comfortable than a bare stone floor.”
“The mansion has not been occupied for some time, but what I saw of it was still serviceable.” Ash said. Rose couldn’t tell how he did it, but suddenly he wasn’t an exhausted man in a filthy uniform, but the Commander. “John, help Hugh take her inside.”
“Is the ocean there?” Neridia mumbled, her breath coming in fast pants.
“A bath might have to do, honey,” Virginia said. She caught Connie’s eye. “We’ll see what we can manage.”
“Do it fast,” Hugh muttered. “Hayley, with me, please. You can help coach her through this. At least you’ve done this before…”
“Chase.” Ash looked at the pegasus shifter as the others disappeared into the mansion. “Fly to the resort as fast as you can, inform them of events. Bring back a medical kit, if you can.”
“I’ll go too,” Ivy volunteered. “I’m even faster. I’ll bring back the supplies, while Chase explains everything to the resort manager.”
Ash acknowledged this suggestion with a grateful nod. The wyvern and the pegasus shifted and took off into the sky, swiftly vanishing out of sight.
“Griff, Daifydd,” Ash said, turning to them. “Search the house for anything useful. Food, clean clothing.”
“Towels,” Rose put in. “Water, and big pots, so that we can sterilize them.”
“I will clean up out here,” Ash said, indicating the ravaged courtyard with a slight motion of one hand. “If you find anything inside that needs…disposing of, contact me. Let us not leave any unpleasant surprises for the resort staff, should any come up here later.”
Griff and Dai nodded. Without any questions, they headed off.
That just left her and Ash. She cocked her head up at him. “What should I do?”
“You…” Ash’s aura of command dropped away like a discarded jacket. He took her hands, pulling her into his arms. “You have already done everything.”
She leaned against his chest. “Did you know?”
“That the Phoenix would go to you?” Even without looking at him, she could tell he was smiling. “I had my suspicions. But what you did afterward…that I did not anticipate.”
“Mmm. If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll throttle you.” His heart beat strong and steady against her ear.
She could listen to that reassuring rhythm forever. “And then bring you back to life so I can kill you some more. Don’t think I won’t. I can stuff you back in there as many times as I want, you know.”
His deep, soft chuckle reverberated through her body. “I will consider myself warned.”
“I mean it.” She leaned away a little so that she could meet his eyes. “No more sacrifices, Ash.”
His expression sobered. He bent down a little, cupping her face in both hands.
“I will never leave you again,” he said, his voice low and intense. “My place is at your side. I will always protect and guard and cherish you…as you do me. You are my strength. And I will never again be so arrogant and foolish as to forget that.”
“Good.” Rose tipped her head back, drawing him down to her parted lips. “Don’t.”
Warmth spread through her chest as they kissed. The mate bond pulsed in her mind, urging her to press closer against him. Even though they were standing in plain sight in the middle of a smoldering battlefield, need roared through her blood.
She’d felt that overpowering, overwhelming instinct before, twenty years ago. In a run-down motel room, just after they’d escaped the warlock base, as she’d bandaged his wounds…
“Ash!” she exclaimed, jerking away in alarm. “I don’t think we’re fully mated!”
He pulled away a little, brow furrowing. She had a sense of him turning inward, examining the restored connection between them.
“You’re right.” He didn’t sound at all dismayed. Rather, a pleased, wicked heat lit in his dark eyes. His strong hands drew her closer to him, his body hard and hot against hers. “The bond is there, but it’s not fully consummated yet. Which means there’s something we need to do…”
A scream split the air. Ash let out a muffled, frustrated groan, burying his face in her neck.
She had to laugh, even though her own body ached at the interruption. “One day,” she said ruefully, “we might actually be able to have five minutes to ourselves without some crisis interrupting.”
He bit her neck lightly, making her toes curl. “I plan to take more than five minutes.”
At the moment, she would have taken thirty seconds. But reluctantly, she pushed him away. “Well, right now I’d better go see what I can do to help Neridia. But I will hold you to that.”
He caught her hand, raising it to his mouth. A delicious shiver ran through her as his breath brushed the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. He planted the softest of kisses over her trembling pulse.
“Soon?” he breathed.
“Soon,” she promised.
Chapter 26
Soon could not come soon enough.
But no matter how Ash’s blood burned with impatience, there were tasks to be done. That was the price of being the leader—those you led instinctively looked to you for guidance, out of habit, out of trust. And a good leader never let his team down.
He could tell his men were riding the razor’s edge after all that had happened—the false, brittle high of adrenaline that came from sustained, intense stress. If they stopped for a moment, they would collapse.
So he didn’t let them stop. He assigned and organized and ordered, with the same calm tone of voice that he’d used through countless fires. He held them together.
And as for himself…he had Rose. Her warmth in his soul was all the strength he needed.
There was no further opportunity to speak, let alone do anything else. She was busy, providing a focus for the women as he did for the men, keeping them occupied with bright, cheerful encouragement.
But every time they passed each other in the corridors, they could share a look. A stolen smile, a swift caress. Every glance, every touch, stoked the fire in him higher.
He had waited twenty years. Yet waiting this final day nearly killed him all over again.
He found an outlet for his frustration in personally scorching away every trace of the warlocks. Both he and his inner animal took a deep satisfaction in that. He reduced even the iron cages to smoke and cinders. No shifter would ever be trapped here again.
By the time Hugh emerged, exhausted but triumphant, to report that mother and newborn were doing well, both menagerie and mansion were scoured clean. Only blackened stones and a rapidly-dispersing pile of ash showed that anything had happened here at all.
Even once they arrived back at Shifting Sands Resort, there were tasks. Explanations and apologies—unsurprisingly, Chase’s version of events had left much to be desired in terms of clarity. It took several hours for Ash to more fully explain matters to Scarlet, the resort manager. She wanted to know everything about the warlocks—especially how to recognize them, and their weaknesses.
“I do not know if the danger is fully passed,” he admitted to her. “Their leader is dead, but there may still be others remaining, in hiding. And they know about this place now.”
“And now I know about them.” Scarlet leaned back in her office chair, a dangerous glint in her eye. “If they come here again…they will regret it.”
He almost pitied any warlock who tried to set foot on Shifting Sands in the future. He couldn’t tell what manner of shifter the strange, red-haired woman might be, but there was no doubt that she was formidable.
Formidable, and also generous. She waved away his offer of payment for overnight lodgings. “You are our guests,” she said firmly. “It’s low season, anyway. We have plenty of cottages free.”
Then she wrinkled her nose, pointedly looking at his crumpled, soot-streaked uniform. “We also have excellent showers.”
He took the hint. A discreetly attentive staff member, Breck, showed him to a large, charming cottage , and politely but insistently waited until he handed over his filthy garments. From the way the man carried them away at arm’s-length, Ash suspected he was going to burn them rather than clean them.
Which left him trapped in the cottage with nothing but a towel. Shifting Sands might be a clothing-optional resort, but he was very much not a clothing-optional person. Especially not with Rose delightfully, insistently intruding into his thoughts every five seconds.
He took a shower. A very, very cold one.
He was still standing under the pounding water, attempting to scrub the soot from his hair, when he heard the cottage door open. “On the bed, please,” he called out, assuming—hoping—it was Breck returning with some form of clothing.
Instead, the warmth of the mate bond shone against his bare back like summer sunshine. “Only if you’re going to join me.”
He swallowed a mouthful of soapy water, whipping round so fast he nearly lost his balance. Rose smiled wickedly at him from the doorway of the bathroom. A short red dress caressed her curves and brought out the rich ebony of her skin.
“Or if you prefer…” She slid the thin crimson straps down over her soft shoulders. “I could join you.”
His mate, his mate.
“Yes,” he said hoarsely.
He just meant it as yes to her—yes, oh yes, always yes—but she took it as invitation. Her dress fell softly to the floor, puddling around her bare feet.
Desire leaped through him at the sight of her. And now, now she could feel the effect she had on him. Knew exactly how every inch of her arrested his breath and set his heart to pounding in his chest.
Her smile widened. She sashayed forward like the goddess she was, allowing him to worship her with his gaze. She stepped into the shower…and shrieked, leaping back.
“That’s cold!” she exclaimed, hugging herself. Gooseflesh rose on her arms. “Ash, why on earth are you taking a cold shower?”
Her indignation was adorable. He found himself grinning, foolishly. “Because I was thinking about you.”
She raised her eyebrows at him, an answering smile tugging at her lips. “Was it helping?”
“Not in the slightest.”
Her eyes flicked downward. Her smile crooked, delightfully. “So I can see.”
He reached for the shower dial,
twisting it to hot. At the same time, he let a little of his power rise, heating the air.
“If I promise to warm you up,” he murmured, as steam wrapped around them both, “will you still join me?”
“Mmm.” She stepped forward. “Close your eyes. You still have soap in your hair.”
Part of him—a very specific part—would much rather have pushed her up against the wall then and there. But the sweet anticipation singing down the mate bond told him that she was enjoying taking her time, drawing out the moment. And, truth be told, so was he.
He’d waited twenty years. But he found he could wait a little longer.
He tipped his head back under the hot water, closing his eyes. The hard peaks of her nipples brushed against his chest as she stretched up, and he bit back a growl. She laughed softly against his throat, kissing his collarbone.
“Wait,” she commanded. “Let me get you clean first.”
Her strong fingers worked through his hair. Her touch was simultaneously provocative and soothing, firing his blood even as his muscles relaxed. He stroked her in return, running his hands over the wet curves of her shoulders, her back, her hips.
Still keeping his eyes closed, he ducked his head. He didn’t need to be able to see to capture her mouth. She hummed in pleasure, tilting her face up to him, water running over both their faces.
He kissed the corner of her mouth, her jawline, the hollow behind her ear. “My turn,” he murmured.
Reaching for the soap, he lathered his hands. The heady, sweet scent of roses perfumed the air. He stroked her shoulders, down her arms, relishing the smoothness of her skin. He took her hands, cupping them in his own.
“Mmmm,” Rose sighed, as his thumbs rubbed strong, slow circles over her palms. Her eyes drifted closed. “That’s lovely.”
“You’re lovely,” he whispered, drawing her closer.
He soaped his hands again, this time rubbing the foaming lather over the long sweep of her back. She purred, arching into his touch. He stroked her until every muscle was loose and languid, her body boneless against his.
