Fated for the Phoenix: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 5)

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Fated for the Phoenix: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 5) Page 2

by Isadora Montrose


  “I still don’t understand how we can be destined,” she had responded in her unflappable way. “And I haven’t the foggiest idea of how to tell my people about us. But I cannot live without you, Rafael D’Angelo. I will marry you.” Despite her moderate tones, he knew it was a vow. He had sealed it with a fierier pledge of his own. Now came the next step. Obtaining the Egg of Immortality.

  No wonder he had begun this flight revved up. The ecstasy flowing through his veins suffused him mentally and physically. He felt invincible. Lucky. Destined to be happy.

  His flight from Honolulu, where he and Samantha were stationed at the military hospital, to Mount Kilauea would not take long. But he was determined to milk it for every drop of joy. For a phoenix there could be no more heart-stopping adventure than creating an Egg of Immortality to transform his mate.

  To mortal vision at best his phoenix morph would appear no more than a blur of blazing light against the dark sky. A blur too bright for human eyes to focus on. But to his phoenix eyes the islands of Hawaii were spread out on the ocean like a series of twinkling beads on a dark necklace radiant with paranormal light.

  The white lights of the cities dotted the plains and crept up the slopes of extinct volcanoes. The brighter blaze of the active volcanoes to the southeast were jeweled pendants hung on the necklace. They glowed with paranormal splendor in magnificent colors human eyes could not register. To him they were almost as beautiful as his mate.

  Mount Kilauea had been active for over a year. It was not an explosive volcano. But Rafael didn’t require an eruption to create the Egg of Immortality. Just a molten flow of lava. He needed living rock to create the transformative Egg. Cold rock would not do. But Kilauea had huge lakes of magma. Boiling rock flowed continuously over the existing lava plains and into the sea, continuously creating new land.

  In the process it produced explosions of gushing steam, scalding ocean waves and a widespread danger zone. Earthquakes were common. And the air rang continuously with the sound of the earth cracking and booming as plate tectonics rearranged the globe. Even mortals could hear these thunderous subterranean noises from the National Volcano Park.

  To Rafael they were like the beating of drums inviting him to dabble in the lakes of fire. To merge with the living fire and become one with it. Since he had come into his talent at puberty, he had been alternatively enticed with stories of the delights of trips into the heart of volcanoes, and warned of the lethal temptations they represented.

  Phoenixes were not just gigantic, invisible birds of prey, capable of setting fires with their feathers and of controlling any blaze they set. As ancient mortal legends claimed, they were also able to regenerate. By becoming fire they could survive injuries that would otherwise lead to death. A phoenix could not actually survive death. Dead was dead, no matter what the myths surrounding phoenixes said. But fire didn’t necessarily kill a phoenix.

  Although Rafael had never had to become fire, he had lots of relatives who had. In his patriotic family, joining the military was a common career move, allowing their adventurous natures to be put to responsible use.

  He had followed his father into the US Air Force, as had his brothers and sisters. Military operations gave his relatives lots of reasons to regenerate. Performing surgery, even in a combat zone, had not forced that hard choice on him.

  His relatives all spoke of the utter bliss that swept through phoenixes as they burned with a living flame. Became a living flame. The pain of being burned alive was counter-balanced by the waves of physical and mental delight that enticed them to allow their immolation to keep going. Once you became ash, however, that was it. You merged with the universe and could no longer be restored as an individual.

  It was a hard story to believe, but he believed. Why would his father, grandfather, and extended family lie? There had to be truth to the tale that for phoenixes fire represented both the gift of life and a potent threat to existence.

  His Cousin Harrison, a colonel in the Air Force*, had told him how the lure of boiling magma had almost seduced him into suicide. And practical, level-headed Harry was the last man on earth to be fanciful enough to play chicken with a volcano.

  Above him the stars glittered like a jeweled net. Below him the lights of houses, and street lamps gave way to the vivid orange glow of Kilauea shining through a ring of multicolored paranormal mist. He had reached his destination. He was in control of his destiny. Soon he would claim his timid unicorn and transform his beautiful Samantha into a phoenix as large and powerful and resolute as he was.

  Just the thought of his Samantha was enough to make him execute a couple of swooping dives from sheer high spirits. Samantha was so perfect for him. His mate was tall, lush bodied, deep bosomed and beautiful. The kind of woman a man could sink into. But it was her gentle kindness and deep wisdom that had first drawn him to her.

  He had never imagined that a phoenix from a clan of warriors would fall in love with a saintly unicorn shifter. Samantha was everything he was not. Calm, deliberate, gentle, sweet-tempered, compassionate and generous. He had never seen her angry, or dismayed, no matter what wreckage of human life washed into her psych ward. Absolutely, he was unworthy of her. Yet she loved him.

  She was the best psychiatric nurse in the Tripler Army Medical Center. He hoped he was as good a surgeon as she was a nurse. Phoenixes were natural healers. As were unicorns. There was just something about being around Lt. Samantha Belfast that soothed anyone who came near her. Patients who would otherwise have required months of therapy and cocktails of psychotropics found healing in her presence.

  But she was completely unworldly, almost naive. When they had first become lovers, he had asked her to move in with him. She had declined demurely.

  “My family would be shocked,” she declared mildly. “Unicorns do not flaunt their love affairs. Besides, you owe your family name and the Air Force the courtesy of discretion. And our own position is dicey.”

  This was true. The military had bowed to the modern definition of sexual harassment. He outranked Samantha. She was a nurse, he was a doctor. She was a lieutenant, he was a major. Even though they worked in separate units, even though she was Army and he was Air Force, even though their passion was mutual, because he was a man and held higher rank, if their affair became general knowledge, he would be presumed to be using his superior rank to take advantage of Lt. Belfast.

  It went against the grain to pursue a clandestine romance, but when a phoenix met his fated mate, destiny had to be served. Still, Samantha had insisted on secrecy, so he had humored her. Not even her roommates knew. He hadn’t told his family yet. But soon. Soon he would shout his happiness and triumph to the world.

  Samantha’s seven years of military service were up in another two weeks. She had found herself a position in a private clinic as a therapist, effective upon her discharge from the Army. Soon he would be able to proclaim their engagement loud and clear. Introduce her to his family. Celebrate his bride with all the fireworks and verve that he had denied himself in their courtship.

  He darted low over the bubbling surface of the lake of molten lava. Here the orange glow was highlighted with brilliant yellow and the paranormal fog was thick. The boiling magma bubbles burst and threw living stone into the air. Molten stone. Dad had been correct. Even though he longed to transform his mate, this lava called to his soul. He had to be wary and stay in control.

  The lake invited him to plunge beneath its boiling surface. Even a phoenix could not survive such temperatures. Or not long. He wanted to sip from the surface of the lake. Instead he held back, watching as the iridescent bubbles popped and thrust miniature fireworks into the air. He circled, relishing the heat rising from the cauldron of lava. George Washington! It was a seductive summons, promising a glorious union that would surpass all other joys.

  Only the thought of his Samantha enabled him to resist the allure of death. On the glowing lake, a bubble the size of a basketball burst and threw a spreading cone of multicolored
light a hundred feet into the air. Each droplet was a tiny sphere of blazing rock. He pounced and carried his living ember away in his beak. His heart was racing from his brush with death and with the knowledge that he had captured the prize that would turn his mate into a phoenix.

  When they made love, their auras proved they were meant for one another. Nothing else could account for the way their paranormal currents resonated and amplified in perfect harmony.

  As long as Samantha was lying in his arms, she could read his mind. But he had no such access to her thoughts. He longed for the fullness of a phoenix bond. To share his heart and soul with his fated mate. Surely his soft-hearted, tender unicorn would see how vital it was for their closeness to be a two-way street?

  He did not know if Samantha would remain a unicorn after she had swallowed the Egg of Immortality. His family had told him how to activate the egg, and assured him that the ceremonial dance that followed was entirely instinctive. But except for his cousin Frankie** his family had transformed mortals.

  He hoped Samantha would retain her innate gift along with becoming a phoenix. But there were no guarantees when it came to mixing species. Yet a shifter who was already telepathic, who could read his thoughts and knew how he loved her, surely she would appreciate the telepathic bond of mated phoenixes and be prepared to accept his gift of immortality?

  *Phoenix Aflame

  **Phoenix Alight

  CHAPTER THREE

  Samantha~

  She stared in horror at the glowing bead on her lover’s palm. She could feel heat and energy coming off it in powerful waves. Sweat beaded on her upper lip and dripped between her breasts. Astonishingly Rafael’s flesh was not sizzling or melting. She put her hands behind her back and shook her head.

  “I’m not swallowing a live coal,” she said through a tight throat.

  “Not even to obtain the gift of immortality?” he coaxed.

  As if Samantha were a child who did not know her own mind! “Not even for the promise of eternal life,” she assured him.

  “Well, we call it immortality,” he said carefully. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean living forever. Phoenixes grow old and eventually die of old age. Most of my family would scorn to regenerate to avoid having to wear glasses. Besides, it doesn’t work that way. Regeneration restores you to the version you were just before you burned up. You don’t wind up twenty years old or twenty months.”

  Her back was against his bedroom wall. Pressed hard against it. He hadn’t moved but she had steadily retreated from the threat and heat of the Egg of Immortality. “No.” She swallowed hard. The lump in her throat remained.

  Was he angry? At the best of times, Rafael’s face was all hard angles and square, chiseled jaw. He was handsome, but he always looked like a warrior. A dauntless warrior. Tonight his face was even stonier than usual. And his voice was clipped with anger and hurt. “It’s traditional for a phoenix’s bride to accept the gift of immortality.”

  “I can’t,” she said. Her voice came out a croak. “I won’t swallow live fire. And I don’t need to live any longer than I already will.” She attempted to placate him. “Unicorns live for centuries as it is. I wouldn’t want to outlive you.”

  He closed his hand over the ball of lava. Red light glowed between his fingers. “It won’t hurt you. At least not permanently,” he cajoled. “Once you are a phoenix, we can fly together. Communicate telepathically. I will be able to read your thoughts when we fly together. Just as you can read mine when you touch me.”

  Become a bird of prey? She had seen Rafael in all the splendor of his phoenix plumage. He became a living flame that even her unicorn eyes had trouble focusing on. As bright as a miniature sun and just as hot. In that aspect he frankly terrified her. She did not want to lose her unicorn gifts of compassion and intimate connection to the entirety of creation. Or grow a savage beak and talons.

  “I don’t think that a unicorn can lie down with a phoenix.” Her voice degenerated into a squeak. “Not in one body.”

  “Why not?” He put the lava away in a little chamois bag and slid it into his pants pocket.

  “A unicorn is a gentle beast. A phoenix is a mighty predator. I don’t imagine any spirit is vast enough to encompass two such different natures. Our marriage is going to upset my parents enough as it is, without having to tell them I have become a hybrid myself. Or...” A thought froze her blood. “Will I cease to be a unicorn?”

  Her question made her reckless lover stop and think. About time. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “We phoenixes are rare, especially in America. My mother was a mortal woman, so were my cousins’ brides. My sister married a mortal man. So I can’t be sure what will happen.”

  “I love you, Rafael,” she put both arms around his waist. Laid her head against his muscled chest. “I truly do. I’m willing to defy my parents and our most sacred traditions for you, but I can’t relinquish my core.”

  “Oh. Is that what I’m asking?” His arms came around her. He held her safe against his rock-hard body.

  “Yes.”

  Beneath his crisp shirt his heart beat slow and steady. Reassuringly. His love for her was a living presence that embraced her as securely as his arms.

  “Could you give up being a phoenix?” she asked.

  There was silence. His arms tightened when she would have pulled away. “No. Let me think, Samantha.” They stood like that for a long time while she drew comfort from his presence, and he explored the implications of what she had said.

  She could hear the battle he was having with himself. Although hear was the wrong word. She had no words for the knowledge she obtained with her talent. Or the process. Telepathy was her gift, but until she had met Rafael, she had never experienced such an intense sharing of another’s mind.

  When Rafael spoke, she already knew the conclusion he had come to during his long silence. She had experienced his tumult of grief, doubts, conflict and acceptance. “No, I couldn’t give up being a phoenix. I was born to fly. Losing my second form would cripple my soul.” He kissed the top of her head. “I guess reading your mind will not be part of our happy ever after.”

  Samantha raised her face for his kiss. “Telepathy is a two-edged sword. Sometimes reading minds is like walking through a nightmare.”

  “When you read my mind?” His astonishment rang in his voice as well as his mind.

  “Not so far. Mostly you are thinking about sex when I touch you.”

  “You bet your sweet, round unicorn as–bottom.” He claimed her mouth with a kiss as intense as his love.

  She surrendered to his passion and let their mutual love be expressed by their eager bodies. When they came together, her doubts vanished. His love for her was complete. A love of body and soul.

  His human aspect loved her as fiercely as his phoenix aspect. Even though he found her natural cautiousness a trial, he truly loved and respected her. As much because of her gentleness and non-violent personality as anything. She had read his mind – she knew.

  He even loved her body. Her hefty, big-boned body. She was fit. The Army expected even nurses to maintain their fitness. But in any case, unicorns were physically strong. Her unicorn was capable of galloping for hours across uneven ground, of leaping vast distances. It naturally had the musculature to permit such feats.

  Her unicorn strength was exhibited by the thick waist and thighs, and the broad backside, of her human form. She was a far cry from the supermodel slimness that was the modern ideal, and never would be that slender.

  Until she met Rafael, she had never had met a man who truly appreciated her body. Rafael found her round curves and heavy slabs of muscle alluring. And his desire drove her own. With him, she had discovered lust for the first time in her life.

  It was a constant bewilderment that she could love a hunter so completely, body and soul. But love him she did. To death and beyond. He was her fated mate and she was his.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Rafael~

  “Fucking to
urists,” Corp. Belovitch said dispassionately over the racket of the chopper’s blades.

  “Fucking Park Services,” Pvt. Compton agreed. “Why the fuck do they think looking at a lava flow is a fun tourist attraction?”

  Neither man expected a reply. Rafael held his tongue. He understood both the attraction of Mount Kilauea and its lava plains and deplored the practice of leading groups of civilians to look at it.

  Tonight’s expedition had been necessitated by the stranding of six people when the volcano suddenly discharged lava in an unexpected direction, eliminating the safe path. Except that unexpected was to be expected from any force of nature. This emergency could have been predicted.

  He had volunteered to accompany the rescue mission. But it was one of those truly annoying operations. Two choppers and eight servicemen were risking their lives because of avoidable human stupidity.

  The emergency call had been placed by a panicked park ranger who had whisked his party to safety, only to realize he was missing six people who had wandered out past the barriers to photograph the lava flow up close and personal.

  “Fucking idiots,” Belovitch said.

  The temperature inside the helicopter was hot and getting hotter. The fire-resistant suits they were wearing had started out roasting hot. The kit they had on their backs added to their heat burden. And their parachutes didn’t help matters. Even so, Rafael thought that the temperature was rising fast. Too fast?

  The roar of the rotors was interrupted by an explosion. The chopper swerved and spun. Belovitch crashed into Rafael’s legs. Compton was flung against the door. On headset, the pilot was instructing them to jump. Puentes’s voice was steady, as befitted his training, but his orders were clearly born of desperation.

  Rafael fought the door open.

  He and his two companions jumped into the rising gale. William Howard Taft! They were dead men. He counted. Pulled the cord on his chute. The menacing heat from the lava field billowed upward and caught his opened canopy and yanked him a hundred feet in a second.

 

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