Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
The love of my life plowed into the shifter king. The two grappled, striking at each other again and again. Blood dripped from multiple wounds, soaking Taron in seconds. From his brow, to his hands, to his chest.
“How’s living without your firebrand, dragon?” Lorik taunted, my ears picking up the sound of his voice despite the roar of battle.
Taron snarled and leaped at his challenger. But the shifter king had expected the action, hoped for it, and blocked before raking his claws across my professor’s throat.
Something inside me snapped. A spark ignited low in my belly, not born of fear. Oh, nein. Not despair either. Not sorrow. It was wrath. And it was hungry.
A sting erupted beneath my skin, every pore flaring with sharp, stinging heat. Then came blood. Not spilling, but shifting. Each drop welled, then hardened, until a lattice of living armor covered me. Feathers and scales tipped in flames, iridescent and obsidian, snapped over my flesh, each pulsing with a glowing core.
I gasped. There was no dragon voice in my mind, no inner beast to direct me, but one embodied me just the same. But I wasn’t possessed; I was reborn the phoenix. There was no doubt about that now. I had risen from ash and death, stronger than before.
Guess love for Taron had purified my heart, as well.
A little laugh escaped. I followed love, not Cedric’s gingerbread trail. Major backfire for him.
With my sights set on Lorik, I jumped. Wings erupted from my back. But they were not smoke, not this time. They were pure, roaring fire, wide and powerful enough to black out the stars. I soared, wind curling against me.
I locked on to Lorik. Target acquired. I dove low and fast, flames streaking behind me, resembling comet tails. He turned too late. Boom! I slammed into him, knocking him off his clawed feet and into the dirt. We rolled, fire pulsing over me in waves, my power outburning his, evoking guttural grunts of pain.
We landed with me straddling his chest, flames still dancing along my arms as I gripped his throat in my claws. His eyes widened in shock. He saw me, recognized me. That heartbeat of hesitation cost him.
“Remember when I turned down your proposal of marriage? Consider this a follow-up nein.” I grinned as I ripped out his throat.
The wound would regenerate. Which meant I had seconds, no more. He was a shifter, after all. But I had just enough time to punch past his ribs and—
A hand clamped on my shoulder and hurled me backward. I twisted midair, already growling, eager to retaliate. My gaze locked with his. Taron. Oh. I grinned again and blew him a kiss. “Hey, love. Miss me?”
He reared, poised to drive his raised fist into my chest, but the second he took me in, he froze. “My Lyssa,” he breathed, stumbling back, a flicker of recognition overtaking the wild glaze in his irises.
I gave him a wink. “Told you.”
Had we been alone, he might’ve swooped over and scooped me into his arms. But this was a battlefield. Around us, chaos reigned in a tangle of death, smoke and war cries. And yet, Taron’s lips curled in a slow, savage smile. Satisfaction and something wilder smoldered in his gaze.
Our enemies had tried to burn us down. Now they’d learn what rose from the ruin.
“You ready to win this?” I asked, turning toward the carnage. “We can wed and honeymoon after.”
“Baby,” he growled, rolling his shoulders, “there’s nothing else I’d rather do.”
A roar cut through the air. Lorik scrambled upright, his shredded throat barely reformed.
Before he could launch an attack, my father and his razor-sharp smokewings landed beside him. In a blink, a mere heartbeat, he beheaded Lorik, ripped out his heart, and burned him to ash, the primordial’s fire hotter than anything other dragons produced.
The battlefield seemed to flinch.
For a moment, I froze. So did Taron.
“I had no more use for him,” Cedric said, stepping onto the pile of ashes. The dark motes dancing over him. “Besides, I did promise to take care of him for you.”
Behind him landed Nyla, gliding on the wind currents he’d stirred and grinning with a glee that bordered on insanity. She was transformed. Golden fur bristled down her limbs; her spine arched with power. Her scorpion’s tail had regrown, thick and venomous, curled above her head, primed to strike. Barbs lined its length, each a quill of pain. An arrow she could launch at will.
“I must admit, daughter,” my father mused, eyes raking over my armored form, “I didn’t expect you to rise as a phoenix primordial. A rare evolution. But no matter. Even a phoenix can be slain... with the right blade.”
A primordial! Of course. I smiled with all kinds of delight. “If it can kill a phoenix,” I said, “it can kill an undying primordial.”