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.”

Corbin’s mouth curved in the thinnest of smiles. He turned away from her, facing the door.

“He will,” he said. “He has.”

Rose had seen Ash in his shifted form before. She’d seen him freed, soaring across a summer-blue sky. She’d seen him unbound, rising in fury from the prison that had held him.

But she’d never before seen the Phoenix truly unleashed.

The old oak door exploded as if hit by a meteor. The entire front wall of the pub simply vanished, stone vaporized instantly by unimaginable heat.

He came like a falling sun, like the wrath of heaven, like the end of the world. Even shadows burned away to nothing before him. He filled the room with white-hot fury, his wings curving round to trap Corbin in a circle of flame. The great beak opened, blasting the warlock with a wordless, blistering shriek of rage.

The warlock tipped his head back, facing the Phoenix without flinching. The edges of his robes smoldered. “We will speak when you can do so as a man rather than a beast, Blaze.”

Fire swirled, condensing down into human shape. Ash stood there, backlit by the inferno. The flames were so bright that he was just a dark silhouette, face hidden.

“Release my mate,” he said.

“No,” Corbin replied, quite calmly.

Rose tried to move, to call out, but the runes bit into her arm. Corbin didn’t so much as glance at her, but her jaw locked tight, bound by the warlock’s will. All she could do was watch.

Fire spread behind Ash like wings unfurling. “Release my mate now.”

“Or what, Blaze? You’ll burn me?” Corbin shook his head. “If I die, she dies with me.”

“Not if I free her first.”

“Go ahead.” The warlock stepped to one side, sweeping his hand in Rose’s direction in invitation. “There she is. I can’t stop you. Burn her animal.”

No! Rose screamed silently, as Ash’s head turned in her direction. No, kill him, kill us both. Take my life, but don’t take who I am.

Ash stood there, motionless. Corbin laughed.

“I knew you would not be able to do it,” the warlock said, with an ugly, gloating smile. “There is only one option left, Blaze. Even I can only bind one shifter at a time. So who will it be? Her, or you?”

The flames died, all at once. In the sudden darkness, she heard Ash speak.

“Me.”

No, no, no! Rose cried out in her mind—and then, as the bindings around her swan loosened and fell away: “NO!”

Too late. The runes wrapping her right arm shimmered and faded as the warlock released her. The sudden lack of pain such an intense relief that every muscle in her body went limp. For a moment all she could do was gasp for breath, as though she’d been drowning.

“Yes, yes!” Fire flared again—not Ash’s pure white flame, but demonic hellfire. It twined around Corbin’s upraised hand, illuminating his face with a baleful orange glow.

The warlock flung his head back, expression transfigured in bliss. “My power, mine again at last, yes!”

Rose tried to push herself back up, to fling herself at the warlock while he was still distracted, but her limbs were still shaky with shock. She had to clutch at the bar just to stay on her feet. She groped for something to throw at the warlock. A pint glass, a bottle, anything.

Soft laughter froze her hand.

It didn’t come from Corbin.

Runes wound around Ash’s forearm, on top of the old scar. He’d fallen to his knees at the warlock’s feet, hands braced in the rubble, head hanging. Blood slicked his wrist, spreading across the blackened floor.

Yet still he laughed.

Corbin’s arms dropped from his exultant pose. He frowned down at Ash, brow creasing in suspicion. “What?”

Slowly, as if fighting against a great weight, Ash raised his head. “You’ve made a mistake.”

Corbin crooked his fingers, and Ash jerked as though struck across the shoulders with a barbed lash. “You cannot fight my will. You are mine again.”

“Yes.” Ash’s teeth bared in a triumphant, agonized smile. “But they aren’t.”

Red scales filled the hole in the wall. Rose instinctively ducked, shielding her head, as an enormous horned head shoved through the charred stones. Emerald, cat-slit eyes narrowed as they focused on Corbin.

“Now, Dai!” Ash shouted.

“No!” Rose screamed, as the red dragon drew in its breath.

Panic gave her strength. She ran forward, flinging herself in front of the opening jaws.

The dragon’s eyes widened. Its mouth snapped shut, smoke gouting from flared nostrils as it choked back its flame.

“Rose, move!” Ash shouted. “Get out of the way!”

Rose held firm, not letting the red dragon get a clean line of sight on the warlock. With a growl, Dai drew back. A glimmering white shape leaped through the gap instead, pushing past Rose. The unicorn leveled its horn at Corbin, the gleaming length bright as lightning.

“No, Hugh!” Rose flung her arms around the unicorn’s neck, grabbing hold of its sweeping mane. “If you kill him, Ash dies as well!”

The unicorn’s head jerked up. It stared at Ash, ears flattening. One silver hoof stamped the ground in indecision.

“Just kill him!” Ash’s voice cracked in desperation.

“Rose.” John’s deep voice shook her bones. His huge hands closed over her arms, lifting her away as easily as if she was a child. “You must go.”

“No, no, no!” Rose tried to scramble back the moment he released her, but a gleaming black wing barred her way. “Chase!”

The pegasus snorted, nudging her toward the hole in the wall. Then it swung round, flanking John. A great golden griffin guarded the sea dragon’s other side, lithe and powerful. The red dragon’s horned head loomed above them all, lips drawn back from razor-sharp fangs. The mythic shifters fanned out, trapping Corbin.

“We will give you one chance, honorless worm.” Even though John was still in human form, he looked no less dangerous than his shifted comrades. “Release our Commander, or you will live long enough to beg for a clean death.”

“Alpha Team,” the warlock murmured, as though John hadn’t spoken. His gray eyes swept over the threatening shifters, pausing on each one in turn. “Dragon. Pegasus. Griffin. Sea dragon. Unicorn. You brought them all.”

Corbin raised both hands. Ash’s breath hissed between his teeth as the warlock’s runes lit up.

“Don’t be foolish, Corbin.” Ash’s left hand was clenched on his right wrist. Blood ran over his fingers in a steady stream. “Even with my power, you cannot hope to defeat them all, not together. Not with me fighting your control with all my will.”

“Correct,” the warlock said, light gathering in his palms. He spread his fingers, each one outlined with eye-searing fire. “I could not.”

He slashed his hands down.

Ten glowing rents opened in the air.

“You didn’t come alone,” Corbin said, smiling, as dark-robed figures surged through the portals. “Neither did I.”