“This isn’t safe. I shouldn’t have left.” Blaze paced back and forth across the small motel room, hands tucked under his arms as though he was scared to touch anything. Even from several feet away, Rose could feel the searing heat radiating from him. “I should go back.”

“The only reason you should ever go back is to burn that terrible place to the ground,” she said, busy rummaging through her first aid kit. “Now let me see that arm.”

He shook his head with a tight, sharp motion, his shoulders hunching even further. “No. You mustn’t touch me. I’m burning up, I’m not in control—”

“Blaze,” she said, cutting across his rising voice. Going over to him, she held out her hands. “You’re my mate. You can’t hurt me.”

He stared at her outstretched hands for a moment, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying his agitation. He was still shirtless, dressed only in plain army-issue pants. There hadn’t exactly been time to stop off at a mall to pick him up some clothes.

After their escape, Rose had led him straight back to the motel where she’d been staying, a couple of hours’ flight away from the secret base. It was just as well Blaze seemed to be able to do the mythic shifter trick of taking his clothes with him when he shifted, otherwise he would have been stuck naked. None of her clothes were going to fit him, given that his shoulders were about twice as wide as hers.

Right now those impressive muscles were rock-solid, wound tight with near-panic. Rose longed to touch him, to soothe away his tension, but she made herself keep still. Holding his gaze steadily, she waited.

Gradually, his breathing slowed. His tongue flicked over his lips, moistening them. With a final deep, shuddering sigh, he took her hands.

She closed her fingers around his, not too tight, savoring the hot roughness of his callused skin. He caught his breath as she raised his hands to her lips. She softly kissed his knuckles, and felt the shiver that ran through him.

“There,” she said gently. “See? Now come here.”

He didn’t resist as she tugged him down to sit on the bed. Fighting the desire to push him flat down onto his back and straddle him, Rose knelt down instead, reaching for a packet of antiseptic wipes.

She tried to be as gentle as she could, but his breath still hissed between his teeth as she cleaned the dried blood from his right arm. She bit her lip as the extent of the wound was revealed.

His tattoo—or binding, as he’d called it—was completely gone. Raw, livid flesh marked where it had been, spiraling up his arm from wrist to elbow. The burn-mark seemed clean, but she couldn’t see any sign of shifter-fast healing starting to knit the skin together.

“Maybe we should get you to a hospital,” she said, worried.

He flexed his fingers experimentally. His jaw clenched, but he shook his head. “It looks worse than it is. Just bind it up.”

“Are you sure? It’s going to leave a nasty scar if we don’t get it treated properly.”

“Better a scar than getting caught. Corbin has connections with more than just the military. I imagine there’s already a nation-wide alert going out.”

“Let them search,” Rose said stoutly, though her stomach clenched in apprehension. “They won’t find us.”

His free hand cupped her cheek. For a moment, the Phoenix looked out at her from his dark eyes. “If they do, they’ll regret it.”

“Why didn’t you free yourself before?” she asked as she started to wind a bandage around his arm.

“I couldn’t. The binding stopped me from using my powers, unless Corbin allowed me to.” He fell silent for a moment, staring down at his arm as though it belonged to someone else. “I used to try to break it. When I was too little to know better. Sometimes Corbin would drain my power, stop my rages, prevent me from hurting myself. And sometimes he…didn’t. Eventually I learned that I couldn’t break it, and stopped trying.”

“You broke it now, though.”

“They threatened you,” he said, very softly.

She glanced up at him. He was watching her intently, with utter focus. A thrill ran through her at the memory of how glorious he’d been, rising like the sun from the wreckage of the prison. Even now, she could feel the sheer, raw power beating through his veins.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” he asked. He appeared genuinely baffled. “I’m the Phoenix.”

“You keep saying that as though it’s a curse,” Rose said, tucking in the edges of the bandage. “Whatever your animal, you’re a shifter. Just like me.”

“I’m not, though.” He hesitated for a moment. “You were born with your swan.”

It wasn’t quite a question. She nodded anyway.

“I’m different. The Phoenix is different.” His free hand came up to touch the center of his chest absently, as though he wasn’t really aware of the motion. “There’s only one. Eternal, forever reborn. When one host dies, the Phoenix flies to another. To someone that’s…suitable fuel. A soul that can burn bright enough to sustain the undying flame.”

She stared at him. “Do you remember them? Your other lives?”

He shook his head. “It’s not like that. The Phoenix is eternal, not me. I’m just the latest in a long line of hosts. The Phoenix came to me when I was very small. Five or six, I think. I don’t really remember. Fortunately, Corbin found me not long after.”

“Fortunately?”

His arm muscles went rigid under her hands. “Fortunately for everyone else. The Phoenix isn’t a mere beast, Rose. It’s a force of nature, ravenous, the wildfire to end all wildfires. If it had its way, it would burn down the world. All it wants is to destroy.”

“Does it?” Rose leaned forward a little, forcing him to meet her gaze. “The warlocks were driving those poor shifters mad, Blaze. Is your animal really that angry, that dangerous, or was it just goaded past the point of endurance?”

He was silent.

“I believed Corbin when he said it needed to be bound,” he said at last.

“Well, everything he ever told you was a lie.” Rose covered his hand with her own, gripping it tight. “You aren’t dangerous, and neither is your animal. There’s no evil in you.”

There was no fire in his eyes now. They were pure human, dark and vulnerable, showing her the tormented depths of his soul.

“How can you be so sure?” His voice was the barest whisper.

“I’m your mate,” she said, surprised that he could even ask. Then she groaned out loud, smacking herself in the forehead. “And I still haven’t told you what that means, have I?”

The faintest shadow of a smile crossed his haunted face. “I’m beginning to suspect it’s fairly important.”

She sat back on her heels, opening her mouth to explain—and found herself stuck. No one had ever told her about mates. It was just…a thing that all shifters knew, bone deep, in the marrow of their souls.

How could she explain mates to him, when he’d never known even a scrap of human kindness? All his life had been a lie, a prison built as much around his mind as his body. How could she make him understand with mere words what he was to her?

Don’t use words, then, her swan said, pragmatically.

“You’re smiling,” Blaze said, looking a little uncertain.

“My swan made a good suggestion,” she said, her smile widening. Bracing her hands on his taut thighs, she pushed herself to her feet. “Sometimes our animals are much wiser than we are.”

He drew in a soft breath as she stepped close to him, between his braced legs. She was taller than him in this position. He had to tip his head back to search her face. His eyes were pools of black, just the barest ring of deep brown showing around his dilated pupils. Fire kindled in their depths as she leaned in close.

“Rose,” he whispered, his breath warm on her lips. “What—?”

She stopped him with a finger across his mouth, her other hand curving around the back of his neck. “I’m listening to my animal. Listen to yours, Blaze.”

He held very still. He wasn’t even breathing as she drew her finger across his lips, slowly, tracing the line of his mouth. With her fingertips, she explored the planes of his cheek and jaw.

In years to come, she knew, she would know the shape of his body better than her own. They would match each other so well that they would move as one, two parts of the same whole. There would be a joy in that deep, earned familiarity.

But oh, there was a profound sweetness in unfamiliarity too. In discovering him for the first time—the slight roughness of his jaw against her palm, the way his mouth parted with a shuddering gasp as she trailed her fingers behind his ear and down the strong, sensitive column of his neck.

His hands fisted in the bed covers. She smelled smoke, rising from where he gripped the sheets. She felt his pulse beating wildly against her fingertips, in the hollow of his throat.

“Rose,” he said hoarsely. “I want—I can’t—I don’t want to burn you.”

“I’m already burning,” she whispered, against his mouth. "I always will be."

His hands came up at last. His fingers wound into her hair, his whole body arcing up as he pulled her down to him. And if she’d been on fire before, it was nothing compared to the explosion at that first touch of his lips on hers.

There was nothing restrained or tentative about his touch now. He devoured her like wildfire, hot and hungry, claiming her mouth with fierce need. Every kiss and bite fanned her own desire. She pressed against him desperately, her fingernails digging into the thick muscle of his shoulders. She needed more of him, all of him, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away for even an instant.

He solved that problem by hooking two fingers into the neck of her sundress. With a sharp, impatient motion, he ripped the thin cloth apart, never relinquishing her lips. Her bra and panties went the same way, falling in tatters to the floor.

Now, now she could glory in the heat of his bare skin against hers. She bit his lip to stifle her cry as his hard chest pressed against her sensitive nipples.

A deep, feral growl rumbled through his throat. He broke their kiss at last, pulling back just enough to be able to slide his hands up over the soft curve of her belly. Everywhere he touched, her skin burned with need.

He spread his fingers wide, cupping her breasts as if they were priceless treasures. She squirmed against him, pushing herself into his hot hands, shameless and urgent. His thumbs teased her hard peaks, making liquid fire pulse between her legs.

“This is right?” His voice was a harsh rasp, shaking, edged with the crackle of an inferno. “This is what it means to be mates?”

“Yes.” She tipped her head back, abandoning herself to ecstasy. “Yes, Blaze!”

With a groan, he pressed his open mouth to the base of her throat, tasting her skin. She could barely stay standing as he trailed lower, across her collarbone, down the swell of her breast. When his lips closed over her nipple, her vision went white, sparks exploding through her.

“Blaze!” she cried out, lost to everything except the heat of his mouth and her own aching need to be filled. “Please, more, now!”

His hands slid down to her waist, her thighs, though his tongue never stopped its exquisite, tormenting circles. He stood, scooping her up effortlessly, lifting her so that he could continue to feast. She wrapped her legs around him, back arching, his supporting fingers tantalizingly close and yet unbearably far from her slick, yearning core.

Shifting his grip, he held her up with one hand, his other diving between them to fumble with the button of his pants. Through the waves of pleasure, she felt him snarl in frustration against her breast. Releasing her nipple, he lifted her even higher for a moment. She gasped, startled, as a wash of intense heat licked against her thighs.

“What—” she started to say—and then lost all coherent thought, because he was lowering her again. Only now he was bare as well, his hardness pressing into her folds. Just the barest contact, his straining tip stretching her entrance. She writhed, trying to take more of him, but his arms were like iron.

“Rose,” he gasped, holding them right on the edge of fulfillment. "I feel—I know—this is forever?”

Her wetness slicked his shaft, her body completely ready and open. The mate bond was a broad, brilliant path between them, leading straight into her innermost heart. She had a sense of gathering power at the other end, a raging inferno held back by the thinnest of firebreaks. Ready to sweep over her, through her, consuming and transforming.

She wasn’t afraid.

“Yes.” She opened her body and mind and soul to the fire. To him. “Forever.”

His power lanced through her, a white-hot ecstasy as great as the surge of his body into hers. He drove in deep, into her mind, into her soul.

Our mate! her swan sang, black wings stretching wide, welcoming him home. Our mate!