I watchas my flame walks into the dark woods to relieve herself, and my bird squawks, not liking her out of our sight. The sound reverberates through my chest, an almost physical ache that demands I follow her. Pacing back and forth, I try not to follow my bird's instinct to chase after her. Every fiber of my being screams at me to go, to keep my eyes on her, to ensure nothing in this godforsaken forest touches a single hair on her head. But I can't. Not yet. She doesn't fully understand what she is to me, and I refuse to scare her away with the intensity of what burns inside me.
She is ours. Protect. Follow.OURS.My bird's demands are relentless, clawing at the edges of my control.
Standing at the forest's edge, a shiver races down my spine. The dense canopy of ancient trees looms ominously above, their gnarled branches forming a tangled web silhouetted against the fading light of day. Shadows dance and whisper secrets amongst the rustling leaves, and the air hangs heavy with an eerie stillness. A storm is rolling in on the horizon, and I can feel the electricity of it prickling against my skin.
Something feels wrong. I can't explain it—phoenixes don't have the heightened senses of wolves or the taste-the-air abilities of serpents. But we have instincts honed over millennia, and right now, every single one of them is screaming. The forest beckons—a mysterious realm untouched by time. Moss-covered rocks, adorned with dewdrops, glisten like scattered jewels. Twinkling fireflies emerge from their hiding places, casting an enchanting aura with their soft glow. As I cautiously step forward, the earthy scent of damp soil fills my senses, mingling with the musty aroma of ancient trees.
Even with my phenomenal eyesight, I lose sight of Feray as she walks deeper into the woods. My heart clenches painfully in my chest. I haven't felt this kind of fear in centuries—not since the last time I lost someone I cared about. The memory surfaces unbidden: flames that couldn't save her, a resurrection that came with the price of eternal solitude. I swore I would never let myself feel this way again. And yet here I am, terrified for a woman I've known mere months. Reluctantly, I turn and walk back toward the road, trying to watch both the woods and the field. My hands clench and unclench at my sides, and I realize I'm counting the seconds since she disappeared from view. Sixty-three. Sixty-four. Sixty-five.
Torben's beast charges up and down the stream, catching trout for lunch. The basilisk types furiously on his phone, then walks over to Diaval to show him something. If I'm being honest with myself, this isn't such a horrible group to be stuck with. The bear will kill anyone that upsets Feray without question. She seems to feel safest with him.
A bitter taste coats my tongue at that thought. Jealousy. It's ugly and unfamiliar, and I hate myself for feeling it. I've lived over a thousand years. I've watched empires rise and fall, loved andlost more times than I care to remember. I should be above such petty emotions. But watching her curl into him, watching her seek comfort in his massive arms—it makes my phoenix want to set the world ablaze.
The basilisk appears to be her emotional support nope rope. Despite my foul mood, a ghost of a smile tugs at my lips. He genuinely cares for her in his quiet, venomous way. The way he watches her when she's not looking, the softness that creeps into his reptilian features—he's just as lost to her as the rest of us.
Even with as grumpy a bastard as Diaval is, she pushes his limits and gets in his face. I've seen her poke the dragon—literally and figuratively—and emerge unscathed. Perhaps her ability to recognize danger is stunted because of how aggressive her sister is. She's possibly gotten so used to her sister's explosive temperament that the perception of real danger has been muted.
Or perhaps she simply doesn't realize how dangerous we truly are. How dangerous I am. My fire has burned down kingdoms. My tears have healed wounds that should have been fatal. I have been worshipped as a god and hunted as a demon. And this tiny slip of a wolf treats me like I'm just a man with commitment issues. She's not entirely wrong.
I ponder this as I watch over the field and the woods. Diaval is the only one with eyesight close to mine, and I catch him periodically scanning the horizon. We exchange a look—two ancients who have seen too much, who know that peace is always temporary. One hundred and forty-seven seconds.
Torben's bear's head whips toward the woods, and he bellows before releasing his human form. "Feray is scared."
The words hit me like a physical blow. My heart stops, then restarts at triple speed.
Khal echoes Torben's words, and before I can ask the next question, we hear her panicked howl. Her wolf's cry pierces the cold air, causing a shudder to move through my body. The way her voice resonates almost makes me feel her fear as if it's my own—a phantom terror clawing at my chest, squeezing my lungs until I can barely breathe.
MATE. DANGER. FLY. NOW.My bird's demands align perfectly with my own desperate need.
Torben's bear rips free of his body. Almost immediately, Khal's basilisk does the same, and they take off into the woods.
They're too slow. They'll never reach her in time. Glancing over at Diaval, we both know that to unleash his dragon would cause utter destruction and alert other flights to our presence. His jaw tightens, frustration and fear warring in his ancient eyes. For the first time since I've known him, I see genuine terror flickering in those reptilian depths.
"Go," he growls. "I'll follow on foot."
Throwing caution to the wind, I take a running start toward the meadow and leap, letting my phoenix fire consume me. The transformation is instant—bones hollow, skin ignites, feathers of living flame erupt from every pore. The pain is exquisite and familiar, a burning rebirth that I've experienced countless times.
It feels like forever since I last spread my wings. Each flame-engulfed flap carries me closer to the sounds of Feray's howls. The wind tears at my fiery form as I push myself faster, harder than I have in decades. Below me, I can hear the bear andbasilisk crashing through the underbrush, falling behind with every second. There's no way they'll get there in time.
But I will. I have to.
Faster. Faster. She needs us.
My flame breaks free of the woods like a little white streak cutting across the sea of green. Even from this height, even in the midst of my terror, she's beautiful. Her wolf is magnificent—smaller than I expected, but fierce and fast, a blur of snow-white fur against the emerald grass.
And behind her— The Wendigo.
Ice floods my veins despite the fire that makes up my very being. I haven't seen one of these abominations in over three hundred years. The last time, it took four of my kind to bring one down, and two of us didn't resurrect. The creature relentlessly pursues Feray's white wolf across the vast grassy field. Its grotesque form, contrasting starkly against the serene landscape, bounds forward with uncanny grace. Long, emaciated limbs move with eerie swiftness, and its elongated fingers reach out hungrily toward my mate. Its skin, stretched thin over its skeletal frame, glints pallidly in the daylight.
MYmate.The possessiveness of the thought startles me even as it fuels my fire.
Feray's wolf sprints gracefully through the tall grass. Her fur glistens like freshly fallen snow, a stark contrast to the darkness of the pursuing nightmare. Her powerful legs propel her forward with a fluidity that's almost hypnotic, evading the Wendigo's grasp at every turn. But she's tiring. I can see it in the slight stumble, the way her pace flags for just a heartbeat. TheWendigo is relentless—it doesn't tire, doesn't slow. It will run her down eventually.
Not while I still burn.
When they get far enough away from the woods, I strike. First, I hit the Wendigo with fire to stop it in its tracks. The creature shrieks—a sound that will haunt my nightmares for years to come—as flames lick across its rotting flesh. Then I surround my mate with ten-foot-tall flames to protect her. The fire answers my call eagerly, rising from the earth like a living wall, encircling her completely.
Safe. She's safe. Nothing can touch her now.
