Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1

by Zoe Chant

  “Dun dun-dun DUN dunnn!” he belted out at the top of his lungs. He flung his arms wide, tilting back his head. “DUN DUN-DUN DUN DUNNN!”

  Sharks couldn’t smile, but he could feel her laughter echoing down the mate bond. She shook herself a little, making him grab hold of her fin to avoid sliding off.

  *We should land and continue on foot,* she said, sounding rather regretful. *There’s too much risk of being seen.*

  He leaned over to peer down at the forest. They’d left the new fire behind, and were soaring over the smoldering ashes of the old. Fire lines cut through the forest like scars, showing where crews were working to contain the blaze.

  “Don’t worry,” he shouted into her ear—or at least, where he thought her ear probably was. He was a little unclear on the finer points of shark anatomy. “No one will notice us.”

  Her eye rolled again. *Joe. I am a flying shark. I think we may attract comment.*

  “Everything’s going to be fine. Trust me.”

  He put his hands flat against her hide, concentrating. He wasn’t in animal form, but she was. With the mate bond weaving their souls together, the sea surging through them both, it was child’s play to lend her the mythic shifter power to make herself invisible to normal humans.

  Which didn’t mean that no one could see them.

  As Seven back-finned to hover in front of the rest of A-squad, Joe’s wish for a boombox was replaced with an even more fervent desire.

  “Someone lend me a phone,” he demanded urgently. He slid off Seven’s back, holding out a hand. “Someone give me their phone right now. I need to take a picture of all your faces.”

  Nobody moved.

  “Oh, come on.” Joe folded his arms, raising his eyebrows at them. “Haven’t any of you guys ever seen a shark before?”

  *No,* Fenrir said. The hellhound’s mouth hung open, his tongue flopped out as though he’d forgotten it existed.

  “Yes,” Wystan said weakly. “But not in a forest.”

  “You. Uh. The.” Rory appeared to have lost the ability to form a complete sentence. “What. How?”

  Edith’s hands suddenly flurried like confetti. She let out a loud, whooping cackle.

  “That,” she gasped, flapping with delight. “Was. Awesome.”

  “I know, right?” Joe flung double horns at her. “Totally metal.”

  Seven nudged him with her blunt snout. *All right, enough fun. Poor Blaise looks like she’s about to faint, and I think Callum may never speak again. Ask them if someone would kindly lend me something to wear. I’m not a mythic shifter. My clothes don’t come with me.*

  “Oh, right.” Joe turned back to the squad. “Seven needs clothes. She can’t parade into fire camp buck-naked.”

  There was a small moment of confusion during which Callum, Blaise, and Wystan all simultaneously tried to hand Joe their jackets. He was briefly buried in yellow Nomex.

  “She doesn’t need to construct an impromptu tent, guys.” He plucked out Callum’s jacket as being the biggest, and held it out in front of Seven so that she could shift without flashing the whole squad.

  As she shrank back into human form, he let the sea recede as well. The ocean withdrew, leaving them both standing on dry land once more.

  But he could still feel the waves, whispering deep in his heart. The sea would always be there. Had always been there. It was a part of him, as much as his animal.

  As much as his mate.

  “Thank you.” Seven wrapped the heavy fabric around herself. Callum was tall enough that it covered her nearly to her knees. She glanced around at them all. “What are you all doing on the edge of the forest? Surely you weren’t heading out to the lines at this time of night?”

  “We, ah.” Rory swallowed hard. “We…were coming to rescue you?”

  “We saw the Thunderbird streak over fire camp, heading for the forest,” Wystan said. “The hellhound pack turned it back. We were trying to help the Thunderbird break through when Cal regained consciousness and screamed that you were in danger.”

  “It seems you didn’t need us after all, though,” Blaise added.

  “Nah.” Joe slung an arm over Seven’s shoulder. “Seven could handle it.”

  She leaned into his side. “We could handle it.” She frowned. “Wait. Why was Callum unconscious?”

  Callum held out Seven’s stunsword, without a word.

  She took it, looking puzzled—and then her eyes widened. “Joe. You didn’t.”

  “Sorry. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “It was a terrible idea.” She smacked him lightly in the arm with the hilt of the weapon. “The whole thing was a terrible idea. Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again.”

  He took her into his arms, protective coat and stunsword and all. He bent to press his forehead to hers.

  “I promise,” he whispered against her lips. “No more secrets. No more running from fate, or trying to fix everything on my own. As long as you promise to be at my side, always.”

  “Always,” she murmured, and claimed his mouth.

  After a long, long moment, Rory cleared his throat.

  “We’re all very happy for you both,” he said. “Now will someone please explain what just happened?”

  There were explanations. There were drinks (sadly non-alcoholic, given the restrictions of fire camp). There was food (terrible). There were more explanations.

  And at the end of it all, there was his mate, in his arms.

  She stretched out as much as she could in the limited confines of their pup tent. Normally they would have slept out in the open when on a job, but they’d wanted some privacy.

  “I could sleep for a week.” She let out a huge yawn. “How much time do we have until we have to get up?”

  “About four hours.” He traced the creamy curve of her bare shoulder, marveling at the contrast between soft skin and the hard muscle below. “Doesn’t really seem fair. We saved the world. We should at least get the day off.”

  “That’s the problem with saving the world. Most of the time, nobody realizes.” She rolled over to face him, face to face, her hand sliding over his hip. “But I know what you did.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “You did all the hard work. I just had to stand there.”

  “You had to embrace the part of yourself that you’d feared.” She traced light spirals up his spine, making his breath catch. “I know how hard that is.”

  “Yes,” he said softly. “I know you do.” He snugged her closer. “Know what else is hard?”

  She laughed. Her hips flexed, deliciously. “Joe. We have to get up and cut line in four hours.”

  He sighed, releasing her—but she rolled, straddling him. Her hands pinned his wrists. She grinned down at him. Her sharp-edged smile sent a jolt of pure fire through him.

  “So I’ll be quick,” she said.

  She sank down onto him, capturing him in her wet heat. All thought fled. There was nothing in the world but her, riding him, hard enough to make him see stars.

  “Oh, sea,” he gasped, arcing up to meet her. “Seven. My mate.”

  She captured his mouth, silencing him. Her hips ground against him, getting just the right angle to rub her slick, swollen nub against his hardness. Her inner walls tightened. He could sense her own pleasure gathering like a tidal wave, increasing his own.

  He couldn’t hold back. Hot pressure built at the base of his spine. He spilled into her in ecstatic pulses, feeling her grip him tight in her own release.

  She collapsed down onto him, breathing hard. She kissed the side of his neck.

  “There,” she said, sounding smug. “I finally found out how to make you stop talking.”

  “A mighty feat,” he agreed. “You should add it to your name. You know, officially. Seventh Novice, Slayer of Demons, Silencer of Joe.”

  “Guardian of the Sea’s Heart,” she said sleepily.

  “That too.” He held her close, hearts beating in unison, slowing. His
thoughts were slowing too, turning fuzzy around the edges. “Actually, I guess you won’t be Seventh Novice, will you? You fulfilled your quest. I’ll have to get used to calling you Fourteenth Knight, or whatever number they’re up to in the Order of the First Water.”

  “Seren,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  “It’s my birth name.” She nestled closer against him. “The one my mother gave me. I haven’t used it in a long time, but now I want to reclaim my human side as well as my shark. You can call me Seren.”

  “Seren,” he whispered. “Oh, yes. My Seren.”

  Sleep enfolded them both, softly as a blanket.

  And all his dreams were good.

  Epilogue

  Even far under the sea, Atlantis glowed with light. The waters surrounding the city were filled with shimmering bioluminescence. Through the air bubble enclosing the Imperial Palace, the soft, constantly changing shades of blue and green looked like the Northern Lights. Vast shoals of glowing fish danced and darted in ever-shifting, living constellations.

  Joe gazed up, watching a pod of young dolphin shifters playing in the waters outside the magical barrier. A sinuous sea dragon knight hovered a little way off, nominally on guard, but mostly just keeping an indulgent eye on the exuberant children. He breathed deeply, inhaling the sharp tang of salt.

  A warm hand fell on his shoulder.

  “It is good to have you home, my son,” his father said.

  “It’s good to be home.” He turned, leaning back against the polished coral railing. “Even if it’s only a flying visit. I wish I could stay for longer, but we only get two days off every few weeks.”

  “We are honored that you chose to spend them with us.” His father was in full formal armor. Light danced from the polished metal plates as he chuckled. “I must confess, most of the time when I finish a long shift of firefighting, all I want to do is sleep.”

  Joe grinned back. “Well, not going to say it wasn’t an effort to force myself out of bed this morning.”

  “I suspect that had very little to do with sleep,” his mother said dryly as she joined them. She adjusted the ornate crown perched on top of her cloud of dark curls. “Are you ready?”

  He touched his own circlet. It was just a simple golden band, set with a single deep blue sapphire, but it still felt heavy on his brow. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  His mother and father glanced at each other, in the silent communication of a long-mated couple. He smiled again, thinking of Seren. One day, that would be them, the bond between them only growing deeper and brighter with each passing year.

  “I will see if the Princesses are finally dressed,” his father said. A faintly pained expression crossed his face. “And not in ripped jeans and sneakers.”

  “Tell them that if I have to wear this stuff, so do they.” Joe held up his hands, showing off his own formal, traditional attire—tight leather trousers, golden armbands, his torso bare but for a turquoise silk sash that matched his eyes. “At least I make it look good.”

  “I shall exhort them to live up to their big brother’s shining example.” His father hesitated, his eyes going suspiciously bright. “I am proud of you, my son.”

  A lump came to his throat. He shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “Hey, it’s just an outfit.”

  His father clasped his shoulder again, fingers tightening. “I was not referring to the clothes.”

  “You don’t have to do this, you know,” his mother said to him as the Imperial Champion left. “Make it a public ceremony, I mean. Not if you don’t want to.”

  “I do want to. I have the most amazing mate in the world. I want to show her off to everyone in Atlantis.”

  His mother stretched up to tap his circlet, the crown of the Emperor-in-Waiting. “You could do that without this, though.”

  He studied her. His mother, the one who’d held him and sung to him and kissed his bruises; all that still, and also every inch the Empress.

  “I want to make you proud of me too,” he said.

  “I already am.” She smiled, through the tears welling in her eyes. “I have always been proud of you.”

  He hugged her tight, resting his cheek against hers. “Seren told me that you knew. About my gift, I mean.”

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into his ear. “It’s not fair. I’ve given you so many burdens by being your mother.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He stepped back, offering her the end of his sash to wipe her eyes. “I was scared of my birthright for a long time, but I’m…well, to be honest, I’m still scared. But I’m not running away from it. Any of it. Not anymore.”

  “If you wanted…” His mother stopped, sniffed, and went on. “If you wanted to renounce the throne, I would support you, you know.”

  “I know.” He brushed his fingers over her crown. “But I know as well as you do that this is just a symbol. I was born with power. I could try to deny it, turn my back on it, insist that I was like everyone else…but it wouldn’t be true. I was given a great gift, unearned. I have to pay it forward. Use it to help people who weren’t so lucky.”

  He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it. “Just like you do.”

  His mother gazed at him for a long moment.

  “Sea dragons have it wrong, you know,” she said softly. “It’s not our ancestors we have to try to live up to. It’s our descendants.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her. “If that’s a subtle hint about grandchildren, you’ll have to take it up with my mate.”

  She burst out laughing. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  “Pity. I was hoping you’d start crocheting tiny booties meaningfully in her direction.”

  “Riveting tiny war boots, possibly. Between your genetics and hers, one doesn’t have to be able to see the future to predict that your children are going to be utter terrors.” She sounded distinctly pleased by the prospect.

  “I just hope they take after their mother.” The mate bond brightened in his heart as he spoke. “Speaking of which…”

  Seren stepped through the archway, joining them on the balcony. The underwater aurora shimmered from her armor, washing the curving steel plates in turquoise and emerald. The gems set into her silver bracers sparkled.

  As always, his heart moved sideways in his chest at the sight of her. He caught her hand, lifting it to his lips.

  “You look stunning,” he breathed.

  She made a small face, tugging self-consciously at one pearl-inlaid shoulder-guard. “I’m still getting used to it. My old leathers were lighter.”

  “Ah, the burdens of knighthood,” he teased her. “I have something for you.”

  Her eyes flicked downward, and then to his mother. “Is this really the time?”

  He laughed. “Not that.”

  Though that would come later, he vowed. Gorgeous as Seren was in her new armor, she would be even more gorgeous out of it. Naked, splayed across the royal bed, while he adorned her with gold and gems from his personal hoard…

  He had to surreptitiously adjust the end of his sash. There were distinct disadvantages to the skin-tight leggings of traditional sea dragon male attire.

  “It’s a mating gift,” he said, kneeling to open the chest next to him. “It’s traditional for a Crown Prince to give his new Princess something from the Imperial treasury.”

  “It’s not a crown, is it?” she asked, sounding a little apprehensive. “Or some other kind of heavy jewelry? I mean, I’m already clanking when I walk.”

  “Nope.” He straightened, turning back to her. “I thought you’d like this best.”

  She gasped at sight of the gleaming sword balanced across his palms. “Joe. That’s—that’s—”

  “Seafire,” he said. The opal on the sword’s pommel sparkled in response to its name, gleaming with frozen turquoise flame. “Yes.”

  “Forged by the Fourth Empress,” Seren breathed. Her hand trembled over the hilt. “For her mate, the Founder of the Order of the First Water. Carried by kn
ights of the Imperial bloodline for generations. Joe, you can’t give me this.”

  “Actually he can,” his mother said mildly. “I told him to pick whatever he wanted. And I thoroughly approve of his choice. The Guardian of the Sea’s Heart needs a worthy weapon if she is to protect my son.” Her smile softened, shaded with old sadness. “That was my father’s sword. He would have been delighted to see her go to you. More than anything, he wanted to heal the rift between sharks and sea dragons.”

  “Take her,” Joe urged, when Seren still hesitated. “You need a proper sword in order to be knighted. And look, she knows you. She’s been waiting for a worthy wielder. Take her.”

  The glow from the opal was brightening, the colors within swirling faster. When Seren’s hand closed on the hilt, the whole gem lit up in a dazzling flare. Her mouth curved in a stunned, joyful smile as she lifted the sword.

  “Seafire,” she said reverently, drawing it an inch to inspect the thousand-layered steel of the blade. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Just like her knight.” He claimed her mouth for a kiss. “Now come on. Atlantis is waiting for us.”

  There was still some confusion over her name, Seren noted with amusement as she rose. The Imperial scholars had been debating for weeks whether Princess-Consort should come before Sixteenth Knight of the Order of the First Water, or vice versa. Apparently, two eminent sea dragon historians from the Underwater Academy had even come to blows over whether Guardian of the Sea’s Heart was indeed a formal title at all, or merely a fond poetic nickname that had been invented the one and only time previously that an Emperor-in-Waiting had ended up mated to his bodyguard.

  The people of Atlantis, however, seemed to have made up their own minds. Even as the Knight-Commander of the First Water lifted her to her feet, formally welcoming her into the Order as a full knight at last, a single shout went up from the watching crowd.

  “Demon-Slayer!” they roared joyously, in both human and dragon tongues. “Demon-Slayer!”

  The Knight-Commander chuckled as they clasped forearms in the greeting of one warrior to another. “So much for scholarship,” the tall, dark sea dragon woman murmured.