Phoenix Reborn (10 page)

T
he Eagle landed next to Ashling, enormous shining wings folding to his sides as he altered into human form before her. And in that moment, even as she gasped, everything seemed at last to fall into place. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together, joining in a strong bond to form the image that she’d so longed for, without even knowing it.

Hawke stood completely naked, his tall form towering over hers as her eyes widened, attempting to take in what had just happened. Of course. How had she not seen it? He was one of them, a member of the same magical species. A shifter.

And for a moment, Ashling forgot that a lunatic was still only a few feet away, readying himself to pounce through the fiery defences she’d erected.

“There’s no time to explain,” Hawke said, smiling only for the briefest moment as he watched Ashling’s eyes scan his nude body. “We need to go.”

“Go where? How? If I put out the fire, he’ll attack. I don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Well then, we’ll need to fly out of here.”

“You’re the Eagle,” she said. “I can’t entirely tell you how happy that makes me, and I have to say that I’m pretty blown away. But you can’t carry me in your talons, Hawke.”

“No. But I said
we’ll
need to fly — not
I.
So sprout some wings and let’s go.”

“I can’t fly. I don’t know what you’re talking — “

Hawke pulled her to him and kissed her, even as the man on the other side of the fire wall altered into something inhuman; a creature who also had wings, and was spreading them wide, lunging repeatedly at the flame as though trying to find a way through.

But as she kissed him, it was as though a soothing veil had been dropped over her mind; Ashling forgot everything: where she was, what she’d been doing or why. All that mattered was him — Hawke, the man who’d come to save her. The man who was not at all what he seemed, who wanted to take her away and to protect her.

If only he could protect her from herself.

“I knew way back, all those years ago, that you were special,” he said when he’d pulled away. “When we were kids. I never told you — because I was selfish. I denied what I was to myself and to everyone around me. And so I denied what you were, too. Because I wanted a life where I could be normal, Ashling. So I did this — this
thing
that I do. I act; I pretend to be other people. The boy next door. Some guy who works at a bar and flirts with girls. Because I was always so afraid of who and what I am. But now I’ve found you again, and you’ve shown me what a coward I was. You have tackled this world alone, and I simply ran away and hid.”

“You’re not a coward,” she said. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

“Am I? Good. So come with me. Please. Trust me now.”

He changed again, and again the Golden Eagle flapped its wings, hovering a few feet above her, the tips of his feathers threatening to collide with the rising flames.

Ashling had no choice but to try and follow. Closing her eyes, she emptied her mind as much as she could, recalling the images that she’d summoned with Ranach’s help. She let the pictures come to her. A flying creature of flame. The creature that she might become.

As if by their own will, her arms pulled away from her body, stretching out to her sides. Her body was being pulled upwards, lighter than air, a summoned wind sweeping her away from the ground. Past the Eagle, past the rim of the flaming tunnel that she’d created. Now she was in the air above the creature who wished her harm. And helpless below, his head turned up to witness her flight.

She’d done it. She’d shifted. And below her now was a Vulture shifter. Wounded, lame, unable to coerce its own wings into flight. It let out a piercing cry as it watched its two foes take off, escaping to safety.

Hawke soared up, meeting Ashling, his Eagle crying out for her to follow. He led her through the air, though where they were going she couldn’t guess. In the dark of night all she could see was light reflecting off his feathers, causing them to dance in golden flashes as the flames had done down below.

But this time the light came from her. It seemed that she was glowing, though with what, she wasn’t clear: was it some sort of phosphorescence? She wasn’t hot — for that matter, nor was she cold. Everything somehow felt just right. Perfect, as though temperature were no longer even a measurement. She felt as though she’d found her body for the first time, at one with the world around her. So this was what had been trapped within her and tried, for so many years, to emerge. And this must be how Hawke felt when he changed, too. Comfort, ease and perfection in a body that was far from human.

The Eagle led her several miles away, to a crystal pond where he dove down deliberately, abruptly towards its rippling surface, guiding Ashling as he went. It took only a moment for her to realize what he was doing for her; that he wanted to show her her own reflection.

She hovered over the pond for a moment, taking in the image below. At first, it seemed that the world had flipped upside down and that she was seeing the mirror image of a campfire hanging in the sky above the water. But then her eyes seemed to focus on the cascading flames of orange, blue, red and violet, moving along the body that she occupied in waves, her wings flapping slowly.

What she saw was a bird of fire, engulfed in flame and yet not burned or burning. And more than that, she was beautiful. Never in her life would she have used that word to describe herself, and yet here she was: exquisite, unique and elegant. She wanted to cry, but held back for fear of dousing the flames that had brought on this beauty.

Hawke landed on the far side of the pond. By now, they were miles from where Ashling had set up camp, and she steered herself, coming to land next to him, grateful for the pause. All of it was miraculous, but overwhelming. The Golden Eagle shifted again into the dark-haired man. And so the flaming bird closed her eyes, envisioning her human form. And a moment later there she stood, close to him. It only took a moment to realize that she, too, was naked. She threw an arm over her chest in an attempt at modesty. It had been a long time since any man had seen her unclothed.

“Oh, God,” she said. “This is insane.”

“You’re perfect,” he laughed. “There’s nothing insane about that. You’re perfect and gorgeous, and even better without clothes on than I’d ever imagined.”

“Don’t tease me,” she replied, pivoting, trying to angle herself to get away from his keen eyes. “What
was
that? How am I a flaming bird? There isn’t such a thing.”

“Yes there is. Because that’s what you are. You have some impressive genes, Ashling. You’re a Phoenix, and even more beautiful than I could have envisioned. I always knew that you were something else; wonderful, unique. But this — well, you’ve blown me away.”

She wanted to run and hide behind a tree; that would have been the only appropriate thing to do. She was bare, vulnerable to him, to his judgment, to his gaze. And yet a calm seemed to wash over her, as though all was still right with the universe. Hawke would not judge her. He’d meant those words:
You’re perfect.

There was also the part of her that wanted to reach for him, to expose herself even further, to render herself as vulnerable as he had done. It took a lot of guts to let her in on his secret, one that could ruin him if it made its way to the wrong ears. She imagined that his truth was unknown to every human in the world. He had risked everything for her, to save her from her assailant for the third time.

And now she was a bird of fire, a Phoenix, as he’d said. Though how it was possible was beyond her. And yet, everything in her life now made sense: the incidents in her youth. Her strange power over heat and flame. Even her parents’ disappearance was beginning to seem take on a distant logic.

“Hawke,” she said quietly, her voice weak.

Gently, he laid a palm on each of her cheeks. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t speak, don’t try to explain it away. You have no idea how lovely you are. You never have, and that’s what I’ve always adored about you. But I want to show you — I’ve wanted to show you for so long.”

He kissed her, his body at first keeping a respectful distance from her own. But as her arms crept around his neck it was she who pulled him to her, pressing her hips forward, wanting to feel every part of him against her.

His chest pressed itself to hers, his beautiful warmth caressing her in waves, slipping along her skin’s surface. And she, too, was warm, her flesh glowing for a only a moment as emotions surged through her.
Intensity,
Ranach had said. Intense feeling was her trigger for flame. And there was no question that she felt a great deal for Hawke. But now she could control it. The heat would remain inside her, would feed her passion for this man rather than become a destructive force.

And so she allowed it to move through her body, to radiate out to his. But this time it was a welcome, a warmth, asking him for closeness rather than pushing him away. There was no hostility, no violence. Only growing feelings of adoration for this man — this man that she had wanted so very much, and had thought she could never have.

Slowly she eased down onto the grass, her back descending to meet the damp blades as she offered herself to him. He moved over her, his palms flat on the ground, and looked into her eyes.

“You will never understand how I’ve wanted you,” he said.

“I think I have some idea.”

He smiled. “If you have
any
idea, then this is the best day of my life, because I never thought this could happen. But wait — there’s something I need to do.”

He put a finger under her chin and lifted, kissing her neck so gently, so softly as to send goose bumps up and down her hot flesh. Under the cool autumn breeze she could feel every nerve in her body standing at attention. Suddenly each part of her was an erogenous zone, and he the man in charge of her pleasure.

Ashling closed her eyes, giving herself over to the sensation of his lips on her, his right hand slipping over her side and up to her left breast where it cupped her white flesh. Gently he squeezed, pulling himself downwards until his mouth was level with her nipple. He laid a sweet kiss on its tip even as it swelled to meet his mouth. His lips locked around it then, sucking, as his hand glided down her belly, his fingers playing with the trimmed hairs between her legs.

She heard him let out a quiet moan as he guided himself to her right nipple, and she allowed herself a deep sigh of pleasure. Good lord, this man — everything about him was beyond incredible.

More moans as his fingers found her opening, slipping inside once, twice, to coat themselves in her slickness before beginning the delightful task of pleasuring her.

“Oh my,” she uttered, her hips seeming to take over, thrusting forward to meet his touch.

“Oh my is right,” he growled. “Forgive me, Ashling Jones, but I’m going to have to eat you now.”

Her eyes popped open and she looked down at him. Was this really happening? Surely it wasn’t. How could Hawke Turner possibly have his face moving to position itself between her legs?

And yet, there he was. In all his glory, his eyes fixed on her most sensitive place as he licked his lips.

Her fingers went to his hair, intertwining themselves, locking in and guiding him. He let out a sigh as his mouth advanced, his hot breath causing her to quiver. Ashling’s thighs parted further, an invitation for him to feast. To taste her. To see what he’d done to her. And as his tongue eased along her soft flesh she moaned, her hips thrusting violently upwards.

“That worked nicely,” muttered Hawke before doing it again. And still another lick.

He paused, thrusting his tongue in between her lips as she gasped.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, and yes and yes. Oh, God, yes.”

She felt Hawke’s mouth tense into a brief smile before he continued to slowly lap at her, to twist his tongue along her bud, her thighs, her mound, promising them each more of the same.

Ashling pushed herself up onto her elbows and watched, enthralled at the sight: his head of thick, dark hair, his eyes closed as he savoured her taste, her wetness. As though knowing that he had a witness to his activities, Hawke slowly eased two fingers inside her, withdrawing them to lick them before pushing them in again. Then, as he worked them inside her, he went back to stroking her with his tongue.

“I didn’t even dare to fantasize about this moment, Hawke,” she whispered. “I didn’t dare. I never thought it could happen.”

“It’s happening,” he breathed before eating her some more. “And if I’m fortunate, it’ll happen over…and over…and over again.” With each iteration of the words, his tongue teased her clit.

Ashling let herself back down, her back on the soft grass, her knees bent as the man with the golden tongue pleasured her. She never wanted it to end. But she wanted to come for him. She wanted to offer him every bit of vulnerability that was humanly possible, now that he had stripped her bare, now that he had shown her his most profound secret. He could trust her, and she trusted him now, more than she’d ever trusted another human being.

A surge of searing heat filled her as she approached her climax. Chemicals streamed through her blood vessels, causing her to feel afloat on top of the grass, her body bucking under his touch.