Time slowed. Through the inferno and the red agony hazing his vision, he saw Rose leap. She seemed to hang in mid-air, as if taking flight. Her expression was as serene as her swan, calm and still and utterly unafraid.

Her eyes locked onto his. He could look through them straight into her soul. Perfect love, perfect trust. Even after everything he’d done.

They were mates, and nothing could ever keep them apart.

He threw himself against the binding, barely feeling the bite of the runes. The flow of power reversed, surging back into his veins.

“No!” Corbin howled.

The binding was just a fraying thread around his soul. Distantly, he could sense Corbin pulling frantically at it, but the warlock’s leash was powerless in the face of the mate bond.

Ash reached out. His love wrapped around Rose, shielding her from the fire. The flames rippled around her, parting easily, harmlessly.

He caught her outstretched hands. Her fingers intertwined through his.

The binding stretched, strained…and held.

Rose stared down at the blood-streaked runes, mouth opening in horror. She gripped his hands harder, as though she could physically yank him out of the warlock’s power. He could sense her trying to reach him down the mate bond…but there was nothing for her to grasp. Just cold ash, where there should have been a link between their souls.

He could enfold her in his power, but she couldn’t reach him in return. And without her power, her strength, he couldn’t break free of the binding.

Behind him, Corbin started to laugh. “Oh, you fools. You poor, poor fools. Now you’re both mine.”

Corbin made a swirling gesture with one finger. A glowing collar appeared around Rose’s neck. Her hands flew to her throat, eyes widening in panic.

Fire rose in his soul—but the warlock’s will clamped tighter around him. Though the binding was frayed almost to the point of breaking, it still held him. He fought as hard as he could, but the moment of shock had shattered his control. Power drained away from him, gathering in Corbin’s hands.

“That’s better,” Corbin crooned, sounding amused. The warlock turned away, raising his hands again to sketch the lines of a portal. “I’m not hurting her. I’m just bringing her along…as surety for your good behavior.”

Distantly, Ash was aware of roars and shouts coming from outside the dome of fire covering the three of them. Shadows moved on the far side of the flames—Dai, Chase, Griff, John, Hugh, all desperately trying to find a way through. But they had no equipment, no gear, nothing to protect them from the intense heat.

He couldn’t make a path through the fire for them as he had for Rose. Though she’d loosened the binding almost to the point of breaking, he couldn’t calm himself enough to calm the flames. Not when she was in such terrible danger…

The Phoenix raged in his soul. His chest was filled with its incandescent fury, so strong that the strained binding could barely constrain him. If he could just stretch it a little further, enough to burn Corbin—

He couldn’t. Even the weakened binding wouldn’t let him harm the warlock. It trapped his fire within the confines of his body.

And he realized there was one thing he could burn.

Please, Rose desperately begged her own innermost heart. We have to reach him, we have to save him, please!

But still her swan keened, in denial and despair. Not our mate!

Ash had been right. It didn’t matter that she knew he had been her mate. It didn’t matter how desperate she was to save him. It didn’t even matter how much she loved him. No matter how her mind screamed yes, the deep, animal center of her heart knew the truth.

He wasn’t her mate.

She couldn’t free him.

She’d failed.

Ash raised his head. His jaw had been clenched as he fought Corbin’s will, but now his agonized expression relaxed. He looked strangely relieved, as though he’d finally put down an unimaginable burden. His eyes were deep and clear as he gazed into her own.

His mouth shaped three final words.

I love you.

Then he collapsed.

“NO!”

Corbin’s shriek echoed her own. The pulsing light around the warlock’s hands went out like a blown candle. The fiery shield covering them spluttered and faded.

The warlock’s magic had died…along with his familiar.

She was barely aware of Alpha Team bursting through the dwindling flames. In all the world, the only thing that mattered was Ash’s still, silent body.

He lay utterly motionless. All the lines of care and worry were finally smoothed away. His face held the slight, faint trace of a smile.

To save her, he’d burned the only thing he could. The last thing remaining to him.

His own life.

Her knees hit cold stone. She couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to breathe. Her lungs burned, but how could she draw in air, when he never would again?

A dark-clad form crashed into her, knocking her to the ground. She gasped, time starting again. Corbin’s frantic, contorted face was mere inches from her own. Somewhere, someone was shouting, dragons were roaring—but she knew in a sudden moment of icy clarity that they weren’t going to reach her in time.

Corbin’s cold, bony hand clawed at her wrist.

And then—

The Phoenix rose.

Unbound from mortal flesh, it was invisible, the pure essence of fire. Untouched, untouchable, it soared upward, outward.

Free, free at last! It blazed brighter than the rising sun, rejoicing.

But no fire could burn without fuel. The spirit that had fed it for so long was dwindling now, drifting away like smoke. The Phoenix gripped that fading spark in incandescent talons, refusing to let the soul slip away just yet.

It needed that soul to sustain its immortal flame for a little while longer. Just until it found a new host, a new spirit to fuel its own. Then, and only then, could it release the ashes of the old to finally find rest.

It was time to be reborn.

The Phoenix spread its spectral wings wide, encircling the world. Souls flared in answer, shining like scattered stars. Bright souls, strong souls. Age, race, gender—such things were irrelevant. It was the deepest essence that mattered. A steadfast will, a true heart.

A thousand worthy souls beckoned to the Phoenix.

It chose.

—Fire filled her.

It struck through her like white lightning. The flame poured into her, until she felt that she must blaze with it, shining like the sun.

Corbin shrieked, recoiling, his hands burned and blistered. He tried to scrabble away, but now it was her turn to hold fast.

The force inside her knew the warlock. It burned with a deep, powerful emotion. Not rage, or hatred, but something pure and bright and utterly without mercy.

Justice.

He had brought pain and suffering to countless lives. He should not exist.

And so, as easy as thought, he didn’t.

She unmade him, burning him right down to component particles. Wordless satisfaction radiated from that foreign force in her soul as the smoke drifted away. In a million ways, a million lives, the atoms that had once been the warlock would find new purpose. All matter danced in the endless cycle, constantly changing, eternally reborn.

Just like the Phoenix.

There was still a tiny spot of blackness in the blazing whiteness within her. Her swan nestled in the heart of the inferno, dwarfed by the fiery wings enfolding it. Yet it opened its own ebony wings wide in a welcoming embrace.

Oh! her swan called out fiercely. Oh, at last, at last! You came back, as we knew you would, at last you are back!

Her swan knew the incandescent power filling them. Knew him.

“Rose!” Virginia seized her shoulders, ashen with terror. “Are you all right? Did Corbin hurt you?”

“No,” Rose said. Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. Some part of her expected it to be much deeper. “I’m fine.” A pure, delighted laugh bubbled up from the center of her being. “Everything’s fine.”

“Rose…” Virginia swallowed, hesitating. “Ash is, is…Hugh’s working on him now. But it’s not looking good.”

Rose put her hand on Virginia’s, squeezing it. “It’s going to be fine.”

Virginia was still eying her worriedly, as though concerned she had gone mad with shock. Rose wished she could reassure her, but time was running short.

Very carefully, she stood up. Walking with the Phoenix inside her felt a bit like trying to balance a tray of full, brimming pint glasses. Power threatened to spill out with every movement.

She heard Connie suck in a gasp. “Her feet. Look at her feet!”

The scent of scorched rock rose in her wake. Dai put out a hand—to support her, to stop her, she couldn’t tell—but snatched it back. The red dragon shifter stared at his burnt fingers.

“Hugh,“ she said softly. “Stop.”

The unicorn didn’t move. Its forelegs were bent, whole body bowed low, every muscle tense. The silver radiance of its horn was too bright to look at directly. The sharp point rested directly over Ash’s heart.

Yet his chest stayed still. Despite the healing power pouring into him, there was no flicker of life. His open eyes gazed into eternity, empty and peaceful.

“Hugh,” Rose said again. She held out a hand, moving closer. “It’s all right. You can stop now.”

The unicorn flinched from her burning aura. It stumbled back, head hanging in exhaustion. With a shimmer of light, it shrank back into Hugh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. Ivy hurried to support him, wrapping comforting arms around her mate. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s gone.”

“I know.” Rose sank to her knees next to Ash’s body. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be all right.”

He was still warm. She cradled his head in her lap, smoothing back his graying hair. Her fingertips traced the beloved lines of his face.

Now, she said, to her swan.

Her animal hesitated. It huddled down as though protecting an egg. But he is ours. Our mate.

Yes. Rose stroked her animal, coaxing its black wings open. And we need to put him back where he belongs.

Reluctantly, her swan stepped back, yielding. Carefully, Rose gathered up what her animal had been guarding.

A spark, a mote, nearly lost in the Phoenix’s eternal flame. But to her, it burned brightest of all.

Bending down, she pressed her lips to his.

And breathed Ash’s soul back into his body.