It’s been nine years since I first crossed paths with the love of my life, yet Dane still grimaces whenever he so much as catches a whiff of my stew.
“It’s not the fish,” he concludes grimly as he studies the pot. “We’re halfway across the planet and it still tastes the same.”
Outside our window, orange cliffs rise into an aqua sky. The sills are decorated with potted olive trees and the like, whatever thrives in this dry weather. Light spills through the glass panes, never failing to make me smile whenever I’m hit with the bright, unhindered sunlight in this part of the world.
The Dead Sea has become my home. After we escaped Sōwilō, we took refuge near these turquoise waters, and we discovered the most confounding place on Earth – a lake where nothing pulls you to the basin’s depths but everything brings you higher, to the very surface.
Every once in awhile we would hear rumors of the vicious bloodshed followed the King and Queen’s death. Hunters, armed with poison siphoned from their talons, sought to extinguish all supernaturals but especially phoenixes. They’re very close to succeeding according to Warwick; he keeps in touch with a few other phoenixes - as much as he dares, without revealing our location.
Besides these few doses of reality, my whole existence has been brought higher, to the peaks of perfection.
Sure, my scar still grows every day, but the Dead Sea’s higher levels of salt slows it down somewhat and maintains me in prime health.
True, I still have a brother-in-law who makes my eyes practically roll out of their sockets. However Warwick has matured considerably, and it’s much easier to have a serious conversation with him. Yet he still makes me laugh at least once a day, especially when it’s a good-natured joke at my grumpy husband’s expense.
And yes, Dane still sports a scowl whenever he isn't smiling. He grins so much more often though, and I’ve come to think of his frown as his neutral expression.
“No,” Warwick sighs heavily. “It’s not the fish. It’s all the other stuff she puts in it.” He eyes me accusingly. “I saw you throwing that moldy bread into the pot, Isobel.”
Heat surges to my cheeks. “So what? I tore it into tiny pieces. Besides, a little fungi is healthy.”
Dane coughs. “What about that stale wine?” He mutters under his breath.
I nail the pair of brothers with an appropriate glare. “If you think that my cooking is so terrible, why don’t you make dinner yourselves then?”
“Because that’s already the case more often than not,” Warwick points out, and I’m afraid he’s right. “Both of us would rather take turns in the kitchen every day rather than stomach your stew.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Dane shoots his brother a warning look. “Come on, her food isn’t that bad.”
I nod in agreement with my husband, grateful for his support.
Warwick’s gapes at his taller sibling in disbelief. “I’m not saying Isobel doesn’t have plenty of other talents… But really, Dane? I caught you retching in the backyard last Sunday.”
My indignation flares as I glower at the red-faced giant towering above me. “Is that so?”
Dane scratches the back of his head contritely as he sends a dirty look at his older brother. “Great, thanks for that.”
“Anytime.” Warwick grabs the pot and marches past us. “I’ll go feed this to the animals, alright?”
I nod absently, gaze never leaving Dane. “Go ahead. I’m sure they’ll have more appreciation than the two of you put together.”
Ever a social being, Warwick took up looking after stray critters when we arrived in the region. Though the Dead Sea isn’t a promising land for wildlife, we dwell close enough to the mountains to bump into the occasional hare, jackal, or even leopard.
Most of the ones that end up here are injured from a tumble down the cliffs. We all try our best to restore them back to life, but some, like the goat that recently fell down the rocks, are beyond our means or knowledge.
“Isobel,” Dane croaks the instant his brother is gone. “I love you.”
“And so do I, with every single fiber of my being, but that’s not the issue here!” I cross my arms in vexation. “The trouble is my stew.”
“Don’t be mad,” he blurts with pleading grey eyes. “You have to believe me. My aversion to your stew has nothing to do with what brews in my heart whenever you –”
Just as my irritation wanes and I’m about to wrap my arms around him, a sudden cry reaches our ears from outside. The clamor of metal and a string of curses soon follow.
“Warwick!” I call out worriedly as we both dash out the door. “Are you hurt?”
For whatever reason, the once-Prince is now sprawled on the dirt, covered in brownish gunk – and looking quite pleased with himself. He cups the liquid in his hands as if it were the finest gold.
“Look!” He exclaims excitedly. “Look at the mountain goat!”
Mouldy, chunky soup has spattered over the poor animal’s wound, but somehow its breathing looks less laborious. The raw redness already seems to have dulled down to a less angry maroon, and a glimmer of life has entered the creature’s eye.
A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and lift me towards the sky.
“Isobel!” Dane laughs. “Your stew is amazing!”
My beam is no less wide as his. “I knew it. I knew it put strength back into my body!”
My husband twirls me around until I’m dizzy, before pulling me close into his embrace.
“For every problem there’s an opportunity to reinvent yourself,” Dane parrots the words I tell him when he grows impatient in front of a dilemma. “And your stew–”
“My stew is not a problem,” I interrupt, though I can’t maintain an annoyed facade for the life of me.
“Forget your stew,” Dane breathes in a heartbeat. His nose tickles mine. “You’re my problem.”
I gulp as a rush of desire zips through me at the sight of the unbridled need in his eyes.
“I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment,” I quip in a tight voice.
“The very highest,” he retorts, humor dancing in those flint eyes I love so dearly. “And I’m dying to find new ways to reinvent myself right this second.”
“Quiet!” Warwick whispers suddenly as he rushes towards us. “I hear something.”
Dane’s face, a second ago was filled with warmth, now wears a look of concentration. “It’s at least two people. I hear two sets of footsteps. There could be more following them.”
Unfortunately my human ears aren’t nearly as attuned. For nine years, we lived in peace but fully knowing this day might come. Warwick and Dane look at each other, a quick glance of understanding passing between them.
“Ready?” Dane only needs to ask me once. I nod resolutely, looking at the home we’ve built, mouth goodbye to the goat and push down any sadness. I scramble onto Dane’s back and without another word, he and Warwick silently take to the sky.
Up in the air, I look down only to find myself staring straight into the face of my friend Garrison. After everything, he never gave up on hunting us. Hunting me. With a stubborn tilt of my chin, I tear my gaze away.
We have each other. That’s what matters.
I hope you enjoyed Phoenix Prince! If you read this prequel before Phoenix Hunted, click here to grab that book now.
When Luciana inherits a dilapidated ranch full of magical animals, she also gets two impossibly sexy next-door neighbors in the bargain! Phoenix shifter Warwick is in hiding, but his burning passion for the beautiful human could convince him to risk everything…
His safety relies on never getting too close to anyone.
But when Luciana's farm is attacked, Warwick can’t help getting involved.
As a phoenix shifter, Warwick should be used to playing with fire but his unexpected passion for Luciana ignites an uncontrollable flame.
Problem is, she’s human and he’s an immortal. History has taught him, that can only lead to heartbreak... right?
If you read this book last, don’t worry! The steamy romance doesn’t have to end. Check out my Reapers of Crescent City series. If you like the witty banter and quick pace of Gilmore Girls with the magic and mayhem of Charmed, this series is for you!
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Axel's charming, easy on the eyes and a constant thorn in Arla's side, whose duty as a reaper, is to preserve magical order. But when his meddling threatens the survival of both humans and supernaturals, Arla’s charged with carrying out a more permanent solution.
Heading off to deliver Axel’s final sentence, Arla couldn’t be happier to rid herself from his incessant headaches. Her plan seemed foolproof enough, but little does she know Axel would ignite desires she never even knew she had…
Will Arla prevent a supernatural war from erupting and keep a broken heart at bay, or will their undeniable attraction spell disaster for them?
This series is just as captivating, quirky and eccentric as the city itself, filled with colorful characters, myths, monsters and local lore. But be forewarned, those looking for a typical paranormal romance should look away! This series is fast, fun and unconventional!
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