His aura is calmer now, stronger and more integrated than I'd ever seen it.
Skye is there immediately with a blanket, wrapping it around Stellan while our other mates crowd close. Jade's hands are on Stellan's shoulders, checking him over. Harlow phases solid just to press his forehead against Stellan's temple. Ambrose stands guard, green eyes glowing with pride.
"I did it," Stellan breathes, looking at all of us with wonder in his orange-tinged eyes. "I actually did it. Full transformation, mid-flight, and I didn't lose control."
I clasp his shoulder, satisfaction humming through me. "Told you. You just needed someone to push you past your fear."
Stellan turns to look at me properly. "Why did you push so hard? You could have just let Jade and Harlow handle the training."
My smile fades, becoming something more serious. This moment deserves honesty. "Because I know what it's like to hate what you are. To think you're chaos, destruction, a mistake."
My power pulses with old pain, the darkness stirring inside me. The voice that's been whispering since Dmitri's attack, the black threads that wind through my golden essence. It speaksnow, low and dangerous:He understands. He knows what it is to be feared.
I push it down, but I don't ignore it. The darkness is part of me now, whether I like it or not.
"My uncle, Dmitri, kept me imprisoned for a century," I tell Stellan, and his eyes widen at that. "A hundred years in isolation because he was afraid of what I might become. He told me I was an abomination, that I should have been eliminated. And I believed him for years. I let him make me small."
I meet Stellan's eyes, letting him see the truth in my gaze. "But I'm not chaos, Stellan. Mother Nature told Skye, told all of us. I'm balance. I'm harmony. I'm exactly what I'm supposed to be. And so are you. You're not destruction. You're rebirth. You're the creature that rises from ashes, that transforms death into new life. That's powerful. That's beautiful. And anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar."
Stellan's eyes are wet again, and this time some tears actually fall before evaporating. "Thank you, Rumi. For seeing me. For pushing me. For believing in me when I couldn't believe in myself."
I pull him into a rough hug, not caring about the heat or the soot or the fact that he's naked under that blanket. "We're family now. All six of us. And we don't let family face their demons alone."
When we pull apart, the air between us crackles with something more than just friendship. The attraction, the desire, the pull of two dominant personalities recognizing their equal. My power reaches out toward his fire instinctively, and I watch his breath catch as the connection sparks between us.
Stellan feels it too. His fire flares, licking along his skin in waves of heat that make my own body respond. His eyes darken, pupils blown wide, and I can smell the want coming off him. Smoke and desire and something uniquely phoenix.
"Rumi." His voice comes out rough. Wrecked.
I step closer instead of away. My hand finds his hip, fingers pressing into the bare skin above the blanket wrapped around his waist. He's still naked underneath, still warm from his transformation, and the knowledge of that makes my blood run hot.
"I know we should wait," I murmur, my thumb tracing circles against his hipbone. "I know we have more important things to focus on."
Stellan's hands come up to grip my shoulders, steadying himself or pulling me closer. Maybe both. "But?"
"But I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you lose control of your fire." I lean down, letting my lips brush the shell of his ear. "You're beautiful when you burn, firebird. And I want to make you burn for me."
A shudder runs through him. Heat erupts from his skin, bright enough that I feel it through my clothes, seeping into me. "The others..."
"Are giving us space." I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. "Jade told me what helped you manifest your wings. Passion. Desire. Feeling safe enough to let go." My hand slides higher, palm flat against his ribs, feeling his heart pound beneath my touch. "Let me help you feel safe."
Stellan's answer is to pull me down into a kiss.
It's nothing like the gentle encouragement I've seen him share with the others. This is fire meeting divine power, two forces that should consume each other instead finding perfect friction. His mouth opens under mine and I taste smoke and heat and desperate want. My wings flare wide, cocooning us both as I press him back against the roof's edge.
His hands tear at my shirt, and I let him. Let him burn the fabric away because the feel of his palms against my bare chest is worth any piece of clothing. His fire doesn't hurt me. It can't.We're mates, bonded on a level that transcends physical harm. Instead it feels like being wrapped in sunlight, in warmth, in everything I've been denied during my century of imprisonment.
"More," Stellan gasps against my mouth. "Please, Rumi, I need—"
"I know what you need."
I drop to my knees.
The blanket falls away and Stellan makes a sound that's barely human, his fire blazing so bright I should be blinded. But my heightened sight lets me see perfectly. Lets me see every inch of him, flushed and wanting and completely at my mercy.
I take my time. Worship him with my mouth until he's shaking, until his fire is pulsing in rhythm with every touch, until he's calling my name like a prayer. His hands fist in my hair, and I let him take what he needs. Let him use my mouth, my throat, my willing surrender.
When he finally breaks, it's with a cry that echoes across the rooftop and a burst of fire that wraps around us both like a blessing. His wings manifest involuntarily, white-gold flames spreading wide, and I've never seen anything more beautiful.
