Chapter Twenty-Five

Damian’s dragon body plunged from the sky, a dead weight of pain that no longer cared if it survived. His life had been too long, too much.

He slammed into the sand, a jarring plunge of force that pummeled his side and head with rivets of sharp pain.

Death. That was what he wanted.

He should be dead. Not her.

He let go of the energy and felt his body change back to his human form. The dragon—a fucking curse he never wanted to see or feel again. Never wanted to be again.

The heat from the blaze kissed his skin and taunted Damian with what he’d done. The unusual white, gold and violet flames reached into the night advertising his deed, the colors proclaiming his actions to everyone on the beach.

He needed to get to her.

Slowly, he moved. He forced his limbs to function, to crawl toward her. To what he’d done. The sand squished between his fingers, bit into his palms as he pulled himself to the fire. The tiny grains stuck to his wet cheeks and sliced at his eyes.

Nothing mattered but getting to her. Joining her.

Cinnamon—the scent rolled over him as he got closer. It seemed to blanket the entire beach with its distinctive, rich fragrance. It washed away the smell of the ocean, the salt and seaweed aroma disappearing under the powerful spice.

Fuck the energy. Fuck the world. He was done bearing the pain for nothing.

He pulled on his strength and lunged toward the fire. Toward the flames that danced and hissed at the night in a mocking waltz of accusation.

Xander stepped into his path. A hand pulled on Damian’s shoulder.

“No.” Damian fought the hold, tried to fight his way around the imposing bulk of his one-time friend.

“Damian, stop,” Louk ordered, his voice strong but gentle.

“No.” He twisted and tried to punch his brother. To hit the man who’d stopped him from saving Amber. Ladon and Phelix joined in the struggle and together the four men finally wrestled Damian to the sand. The men pinned Damian, his chest buried in the cold sand, his arms pulled behind his back. A knee jabbed into his spine, grinding the sand into the bare skin of his chest. But Damian kept his head lifted, his eyes still focused on Amber’s burning form and the unearthly flames still reaching high into the dark sky.

“Wait, Damian,” Louk whispered in his ear as he held him tight from behind. “Trust me.”

Around him, the fighting had stopped. The Shifter forces were gone, having left after Tubal exited and they realized the Marked One was dead.

“Why?” Damian snarled, the anger rising to bury the misery. “Why should I trust?”

“Because of who you are,” his brother answered. His youngest brother, who knew nothing of Damian’s past. Of what he’d endured and suffered.

“You know nothing, brother,” Damian bit out.

“I know more that you think,” Louk replied, his voice silk against Damian’s anger.

Louk pulled on his arms, the force lifting Damian’s torso off the sand until he knelt. Louk kept a tight hold on his arms, but now Damian had a clear view of what he’d done.

The Energen forces had gathered to form a wide circle around his destruction. The faces of the men and women who’d fought for Amber now flickered in and out of the light and shadow of the fire that consumed her. The very person they had battled to save.

Damian dropped his head in shame, unable to meet the eyes of those who had finally believed.

Bitterness ate at the tattered remains of his heart. Cold, empty and hollow. His dragon wailed in fury at the injustice and the aching loss of his mate. Beside it, the white bird lay still and motionless. Silenced by death.

“Damian.” Louk spoke sharp and commanding into his ear. A tug on his arms brought Damian out of his blackened misery. “Watch.”

Louk was right. He should watch what he’d done. Suffer for his actions. That was justice.

Damian lifted his head, the weight of it straining his muscles with the effort. The flames sparked and snapped as they shifted and grew, reaching higher into the night. His gaze held, mesmerized by the shifting colors and changing form.

Around them, the wind died. An unnatural silence and stillness settled on the beach. An almost inappropriate peacefulness rippled through the night and reached out to him. Gently, it pulled at him, begging him to understand.

To accept and trust.

How could he?

Damian. The soft word swept through his mind, the purring voice of Amber jerking him upright in disbelief.

A torturous wail of denial ripped from his chest and echoed off the blood-red rock of the cliffs. He pulled on his held arms, desperate to break free. To get to her.

In the next moment, a sweeping wave of energy rolled out of the flames and blasted the surrounding gawkers with a shuddering jolt of pure power. Of silken strength that brushed at Damian with familiarity.

He stilled. Within him, his dragon circled and paced around its downed mate, its agitation and impatience rising with each broad sweep of its tail.

Damian’s breath stopped. Hope flared.

Could it be possible?

Then, out of the flames it rose. A collective gasp went up before silence fell.

The large bird, wings spread wide, lifted from the flames in a slow ascension of mystical power. Stunning in its grace and beauty, the apparition held everyone in its grasp as it continued to rise into the night. The bird was mostly white with gold and violet hues glinting through the feathers in a taunting illusion of color.

How? Impossible. Unbelievable.

But real.

Damian struggled free from Louk’s slackening hold and stepped forward. The bird tipped its head and held his gaze, the golden eyes snagging his heart and stealing his breath.

Amber.

The bird tossed its head back and opened its beak to release a piercing call of joy before it shot off into the sky, gold and violet flames streaking behind it. A single flap of its large wings had it lifting higher before it turned and coasted over the beach.

Stunning.

Joy leapt through Damian as he gloried in the gift.

Laughter tilted through his head in unison with the high, lilting call of the bird from above. Freedom. The feeling radiated through him as Amber continued to soar above the stunned occupants of the beach. For yet another time that night, everyone watched in awe and amazement as a legendary animal coasted over them.

A white phoenix, the bird so easy to identify now.

In three large running steps, Damian leapt, shifted, and soared into the night to meet her.

 

Laughter bubbled in her throat, the freedom exhilarating. The night air stroked through her feathers, light touches of love and welcome. Of belonging. Amber laughed, the sound coming out as the high, tilting cry of a bird.

Her. A phoenix.

She tilted her wings, gave a flap and soared in a low, graceful glide over the beach below. Her eyes sought out Damian, the man who had sacrificed so much for her. She’d felt his pain, the complete anguish that had consumed him when he’d accepted what he needed to do.

What he did do.

Ultimately, his sacrifice had saved her. But he hadn’t known that.

Her keen eyes searched the beach; she needed to find Damian. To explain. But he wasn’t down there.

Damian? She called out to him, doubt creeping into her voice.

Here, he answered, strong and steady. Beside you.

A harsh flap of wings cut through the air, and Amber turned her head to see Damian soaring next to her. He was power and grace blended into one stunning form.

Always, she answered, positive that would forever be true.

In unison, the connection so strong it was like there was a literal bond holding them together, they gave one more flap of their wings before they turned, circled, then coasted back to the beach.

They landed in the middle of the ring of Energens, exactly where she had burned just minutes before. Only now, not even the sand was darkened to mark the event. Her talons touched down in the sand as she curled her wings to her sides. She didn’t shift immediately, but instead waited for Damian, pulling from his energy.

Next to him, she was still small, her head barely reaching his shoulders. Around them, the people watched and waited.

Damian dropped his head and shuffled his feet. His gaze scanned the circle, seeking what, she didn’t know. Then his wings expanded to tuck around her, pulling her close to his warm scales.

He lifted his head, a regal declaration as he lifted one of his five-toed claws into the air and let out a mighty, flaming roar. A chill of possessiveness and pride ruffled her feathers and expanded her chest.

This man, this dragon, was hers.

How? She didn’t know. But she wasn’t going to question it anymore.

Slowly, the men before them bowed their heads and dropped to a knee in a formal bow of reverence. She recognized one of them as the man who had met them at the door of the farmhouse, which now seemed like eons ago. She watched, stunned and overwhelmed as their actions were copied and repeated in a successive wave of deference until the entire circle was kneeling in supplication to them.

The dragon and the phoenix.

Damian’s amazement matched her own. But within him, she felt a quiet thread of homecoming, understanding and forgiveness.

His head turned to her and together, they shifted. The second her body formed, she was in Damian’s arms. His embrace crushed her to his chest, then his mouth was on hers. Hot, claiming and more than welcomed.

His hands laced into her hair before he slowly pulled back to stare into her eyes.

“How?” he whispered, the wonder expressed on his face as he absorbed her features.

She understood what he was feeling because it matched her own. “I don’t know,” she answered. “The energy encompassed me when your flames hit. I could feel the heat, the sizzle of the fire as it joined with me, but there was no pain. And inside me, the energy flared, ignited by the flames. The stone came to life and for a time, I became one with the fire.” She caressed his cheek, the stubble rough and comforting under her fingertips. “Then I found the bird. And I understood what I could do. What I could be.”

His hands touched her as his eyes followed, skimming over her as if he was checking to see if she was whole, real. Somehow, she was completely unhurt. Not even her hair was singed. The fire had rejuvenated her instead of killing her. Even her clothing had returned, unmarked, when she’d shifted back.

His hands slid to her hair, and he tipped his head to rest his forehead against hers. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” His breath brushed warm across her cheeks and lips.

She smiled. “Never.”

She felt his sigh of relief under her hands as they caressed his chest and in her heart where his energy was joined with hers. It was then that their animals rejoiced, the dragon once again curling around the phoenix in a jubilant embrace for the return of its mate.

The energy settled around them, a contented exhale at what should be.

Damian grasped her hand and together they turned to face the men who’d first knelt down to them. His energy flowed openly through their joined hands, a vital piece of who she now was.

The stone was warm against her chest, but for the first time ever, it was absorbing the energy—their united energy—instead of giving energy. She could feel the difference even if she didn’t understand the reason. Like so many things now, understanding wasn’t a qualification for accepting.

“Look,” Damian said, tugging lightly on her hand as he tipped his chin upward. “On the cliffs.”

She lifted her gaze, her hand clenching around Damian’s, astonished at the sight that met her. There, high on the Aquinnah Cliffs that overlooked Moshup Beach, the moonlight shone down on a long line of people as they stood silently watching the events below.

Her people.

Recognition drummed withinin her even if the faces were hidden in shadow.

In the middle, holding a long staff topped with feathers, was the Wampanoag shaman, Joseph. Flanking him on each side were Kayla and Aunt Beverly.

“How?” Amber whispered, knowing the answer would not come. Her free hand shook as she lifted it to rest against her lips. “Did they know?”

“Does it matter?” Damian asked.

Slowly, in virtual duplication of the Energen forces just moments ago, Joseph, Kayla and her aunt dropped to a knee and bowed their heads. In a rippled domino effect, the people down both sides of the line followed until the entire mass of people on the cliffs were kneeling in respect to them as well.

“Wow,” she said under her breath. Her heart beat hard and demanding at the impact of the simple show of respect. She now understood what Damian had felt.

Finally, after years of ridicule and scorn, she was accepted by her people for who she was. Even though it shouldn’t matter, it meant so much.

Tears formed, blurring the image before her even as her shoulders pulled back and her chin lifted in pride. “Now what?”

In apparent answer to her question, Joseph rose, raised his staff high, then turned and walked away. Her aunt rose next, lifted her hand in a silent wave, then followed Joseph away from the cliff’s edge. All down the line, the people of the Wampanoag tribe stood and followed suit until once again, the cliffs were empty.

At that moment, the wind gusted off the water to blow across the beach and over the cliffs, the long grass that edged the top waving silently in the emptiness.

“Rise,” Damian commanded to the men before them, the authority in his voice leaving no doubt of his position. The four men in front rose, each one lifting their heads to meet Damian’s gaze. All of them were covered in blood from the battle, their clothing torn and battered from their efforts to protect her.

The man in middle, the one from the house, stepped forward. His voice was deep and full of respect when he spoke.

“Damian, it is time for you to come home.”