Firefighter Phoenix (Fire & Rescue Shifters 7)

That was what no one had ever understood, not even Corbin. He was the Phoenix, and the Phoenix was the flame eternal, and so he was the fire.

He forced down his own raging desires, and the inferno grudgingly died down as well. He calmed himself, and the flames calmed too, allowing Dai to sprint through them.

It was harder than normal to hold onto his control. At first he thought it was just due to his unsettled mind…but it wasn’t just the intoxicating memory of Rose’s body against his that was making it difficult to maintain his discipline.

Dai was right. This fire was strange. It fought him, hissing in malice. It sent out sparks into his soul, trying to rekindle his own destructive instincts. It was as if it had a will of its own.

Or as if someone else’s will was driving it.

Someone else’s will was driving it. A will that he recognized.

How could he not, when it had bound his own for so long?

*Hurry,* he sent to Dai, battling the rage and terror rising in his heart. *This isn’t a fire. It’s a distraction.*

Chapter 17

Rose couldn’t so much as twitch a muscle as Corbin walked round her. The warlock’s lips pursed as though she was a particularly perplexing piece of modern art.

“Not quite what I was expecting,” Corbin said. Rose’s skin crawled as his left hand closed around her right wrist. “But you will serve my purpose.”

The warlock glanced across at Wayne. “You, on the other hand, are no longer useful.”

The tattooed runes on the wolf shifter’s arm flared red hot. Wayne’s half-transformed maw gaped wide in a howl of agony—but only briefly.

Held motionless by Corbin’s magic, Rose couldn’t even close her eyes. All she could do was watch, helpless, as Wayne collapsed in on himself, shriveling as though all his vital fluids were being sucked dry. Within seconds, he was nothing but a handful of ashen dust.

Corbin drew in a sharp breath as Wayne’s empty clothes crumpled to the ground. He closed his eyes for a moment, like a smoker savoring the last drag of a cigarette.

Then his thin mouth twisted with dissatisfaction. “How quickly it fades.”

The runes on his left arm were indeed dimming, turning back into mere inked lines on his skin. The glowing ropes holding her were fading away too. She could move her fingers, her toes. She tensed, straining against the slackening restraints—

But before she could break free, Corbin’s hand tightened around her wrist. “Let us see what you contain, Phoenix’s mate.”

A searing pain wrapped around her arm, but it was nothing compared to the agony that ripped through her soul. It felt as if the warlock had cracked open her chest, plunging his hand into her heart. Her swan shrieked in terror as the warlock’s will closed around it like a fist.

Corbin’s eyebrows rose. He looked at her as though only truly seeing her for the first time. “So strong. Interesting. Though perhaps I should not be surprised.”

He opened his hand again, releasing her arm—but not his grasp on her mind. Wrong, wrong, to have someone else touching her animal, touching her soul. This wasn’t the mate bond, a willing sharing of strength. This was someone reaching in and taking, greedily latching onto her swan like some vile parasite.

Corbin held up his left hand, flexing his fingers experimentally. Rose gasped as a thousand needles bit into her right arm. Her swan thrashed in panic, only cutting itself further on the sharp-edged runes binding it. Every beat of her heart felt like it was pumping her blood into someone else’s body.

“Very interesting,” Corbin murmured, studying the smoky, pitch-black darkness winding around his fingers.

Rose fell to her knees, gripping her burning wrist. The runes were barely visible against her deep black skin, but she could feel every sharp edge pressing into her flesh. Her swan keened, trembling.

“I advise you not to fight,” Corbin said in a disinterested tone, as though it made no difference to him whether she did or not. “You will only hurt yourself. I am the only man ever to bind the Phoenix, after all. Holding you is child’s play in comparison.”

Rose

licked her dry lips, struggling to form words. It was hard to think with her swan’s distress shaking the foundations of her mind.

“You’ve made a mistake,” she croaked out. “I’m not his mate.”

“Indeed not.” Corbin leaned against the bar, considering her thoughtfully. “Not a flicker of fire within you. He truly did destroy your bond. Well. I suppose any animal will chew its own leg off to escape a trap.”

“That’s right.” Rose drew on all her pent-up feelings of betrayal and anger, praying that they would give strength to the lie. “There’s nothing between us. You’re wasting your time. He won’t come for me.”