My ears twitched. Sounds pierced the castle prison, an impossible feat unless the chaos above had breached the deepest levels, or I’d developed super-sensitive hearing. Either way, I heard war. Clashing steel. The thrum of wings. The brutal crack of impact. Screams, some defiant, others agonized. Taunts hurled over howls of fury. And somewhere, unmistakably, my father’s laughter, low and lethal.
Understanding slammed into me. I surged upright in a single, fluid motion, far faster and more graceful than I’d ever moved before. Sweet magma, what was this? Energy pulsed through me, a living current, thick and molten. Such power. Radiant, untamed, and rising. A glorious elixir pumping through my veins. Was I the phoenix? I was alive after dying, so I must be. Except, I felt no foreign presence. No winged fire-breather demanding snacks or battle or better décor, either. Just… me.
I blinked. Waited, hoping, searching. Nope. Nothing stirred in the farthest caverns of my mind.
And I hadn’t changed. Same freckle on my inner wrist. Same scar along my knee. Same everything. Except for the way the world vibrated around me, as if I wasn’t juststrongerbut…more. A storm in tranquility. A blade waiting to strike.
“I’m so getting a teacup for this,” I muttered.
Another roar split the air. One I recognized. Taron! Andthis time, it wasn’t born of pain. I heard apromise. Destruction comes…
Heart pounding, I surged forward with a half-formed plan. Get to my room. Gear up. Join the fray?—
My stomach lurched, as if the world had folded instead of me. Suddenly, I was there. One blink. One thought.Poof. I stood in my bedroom. I staggered to a halt before I slammed into my dresser, a hand catching the wood. My mind reeled, trying to make sense of the impossible leap. Teleportation? Not a skill the phoenix were known to possess. Was I something more?
A mystery for later. I dressed in record speed: tunic, leathers, combat boots. Strapped on blades until I felt like a walking armory. A dragonless queen needed every edge. Out of habit, I raced to the balcony, intending to jump, forgetting I had no dragon or wings. The sight that greeted me stopped me dead. The sky was smoke and flame. Below me, my kingdom bled, courtesy of my enemy.
My chest clenched, my ribs compressing my lungs. Warriors I’d trained and stood beside were currently locked in a brutal battle with Lorik’s massive horde. Berserkers pitted against shifters, and the shifters were winning. The bodies and limbs of my comrades littered the ground. Crimson soaked the soil, misting the air with the coppery scent of death. Fury sparked like lightning between blade strikes.
Adelaide, my darling sister, was mid-duel with Councilman Roland. He fought like a monster reborn, no longer berserker, but shifter. How ironic. The man who’d sworn to protect our people from Cedric, had instead become his echo. She held her own, but she was alone, and the former councilman wasn’t fighting fair. He worked with two other shifters, a coordinated pack against one.
I bit down hard, stomach twisting. Where was—? There. Taron.
The muscles in my jaw slackened. He was carnage in dragon-berserker form. Twice his normal size, with muscle piled upon muscle, his body rippled with fury and dragon fire. Lost completely to his rage, he tore through dragons and shifters alike, using his claws and fangs with utter abandon. Uncontrolled, untrained, unstoppable.
The dragon inside him was new to him and wild, its smokewings flickering in and out of existence as he rampaged. It made him stagger, left him vulnerable, allowing any challengers to strike with vicious precision. But no matter how many times Taron fell, he got up and headed straight for—I growled. Straight for Lorik, who fought three of my sisters.
My frown returned. Lorik wore metal cuffs. Shackles without a center link. Why would he?—
Recognition came in a rush. The Chains of O. The reason Taron continued to throw off his attackers and make his way toward the shifter king.He’s being drawn. Our enemy’s final crumb along the gingerbread trail.
The love of my life plowed into the shifter king. The two grappled, striking at each other again and again. Blood dripped from multiple wounds, soaking Taron in seconds. From his brow, to his hands, to his chest.
“How’s living without your firebrand, dragon?” Lorik taunted, my ears picking up the sound of his voice despite the roar of battle.
Taron snarled and leaped at his challenger. But the shifter king had expected the action, hoped for it, and blocked before raking his claws across my professor’s throat.
Something inside me snapped. A spark ignited low inmy belly, not born of fear. Oh,nein. Not despair either. Not sorrow. It was wrath. And it was hungry.
A sting erupted beneath my skin, every pore flaring with sharp, stinging heat. Then came blood. Not spilling, butshifting. Each drop welled, then hardened, until a lattice of living armor covered me. Feathers and scales tipped in flames, iridescent and obsidian, snapped over my flesh, each pulsing with a glowing core.
I gasped. There was no dragon voice in my mind, no inner beast to direct me, but oneembodiedme just the same. But I wasn’t possessed; I was reborn the phoenix. There was no doubt about that now. I had risen from ash and death, stronger than before.
Guess love for Taron had purified my heart, as well.
A little laugh escaped. I followed love, not Cedric’s gingerbread trail. Major backfire for him.
With my sights set on Lorik, I jumped. Wings erupted from my back. But they were not smoke, not this time. They were pure, roaring fire, wide and powerful enough to black out the stars. I soared, wind curling against me.
I locked on to Lorik. Target acquired. I dove low and fast, flames streaking behind me, resembling comet tails. He turned too late. Boom! I slammed into him, knocking him off his clawed feet and into the dirt. We rolled, fire pulsing over me in waves, my power outburning his, evoking guttural grunts of pain.
We landed with me straddling his chest, flames still dancing along my arms as I gripped his throat in my claws. His eyes widened in shock. He saw me,recognizedme. That heartbeat of hesitation cost him.
“Remember when I turned down your proposal of marriage? Consider this a follow-up nein.” I grinned as I ripped out his throat.
The wound would regenerate. Which meant I had seconds, no more. He was a shifter, after all. But I had just enough time to punch past his ribs and?—
A hand clamped on my shoulder and hurled me backward. I twisted midair, already growling, eager to retaliate. My gaze locked with his. Taron. Oh. I grinned again and blew him a kiss. “Hey, love. Miss me?”
