“And you still have the same weakness.” Painfully, Ash straightened, drawing himself up to his full height. He looked down his nose at the warlock. “It is you who should surrender, Corbin. There is a flaw in your plan, and it is not one that can be covered. You know that. I know that. And there is another who knows it too.”
“Bluff,” Corbin snarled. “A good attempt, Blaze. But I have studied the Phoenix for hundreds of years. I know how your powers work, even better than you do yourself. When you burned the mate bond, you burned yourself from her mind. She does not—cannot—remember.”
“She does not need to. She is my mate. I told her everything.”
Corbin laughed scornfully. “More lies. I have spied on you for a decade, Blaze. You didn’t tell her anything. You let her eat her heart out pining for you, to the point where even I was fooled. Oh, you cracked in the end—driven by jealousy, no doubt—but you cannot persuade me that you spilled all your sordid secrets in a single night. She doesn’t know. I am quite certain of that.”
The punch of the warlock’s will took him by surprise. His head snapped back, spine arching as cold, intangible claws raked through his soul.
“And by holding your tongue you have sealed your fate, and that of all your friends.” Corbin’s taunting voice sounded distant, muffled by the agony roaring in his ears. “Just think, Blaze. If you had been honest with her, she would have known how to defeat me. How does it feel, to be the architect of your own doom?”
He bit his tongue, the iron taste of blood filling his mouth. With every ounce of will, he fought, holding his fire just out of the warlock’s reach.
And as he fought, he prayed.
Remember, Rose. Remember.
Chapter 21
“The Knights of the Third and Fourth Water shall form defensive lines here.” The Knight-Commander—a handsome man with blue-green hair and eyes who, at a mere six foot two, was distinctly short for a sea dragon—
indicated a point on the map shimmering on the surface of the scrying pool.
Rose tried to see around the massive, armored forms crowding around the basin. Peering past a sea dragon warrior’s steel-clad elbow, she saw that the Knight-Commander was pointing at Shifting Sands Resort itself. The beach was mapped in exquisite detail, but the actual buildings were just vague blobs. Neridia’s powers as Pearl Empress only allowed her to view areas directly adjacent to water.
“The shark warriors shall be here.” The Knight-Commander spread his hand over a patch of water. “Waiting in the lagoon, in case reinforcements are necessary.”
A slim, pale woman—a Great White shifter, one of the leaders of the sharks—showed her serrated teeth. “We are not children, to be kept away from battle. We can fight just as well as any dragon.”
“Restrain your bloodlust,” the Knight-Commander answered coolly, meeting her challenging gaze. “We must maintain some forces in reserve, as a last-ditch defense. The warlocks clearly fight without honor, so we must be prepared for them to mount a counterattack on the resort. The civilians at must be protected at all costs.”
The assembled knights nodded seriously. There were a dozen of them, representing various subsections of the sea shifter forces. Rose wasn’t quite sure on the distinctions between the different orders. There was clearly some sort of hierarchy, but they all looked equally fearsome to her.
To a warlock, however…
Wriggling through the crowd, she worked her way around to Neridia. The sea dragon Empress stood with her fingers in the basin, maintaining the view of the island while her officers debated strategy. Rose tugged at her arm.
“Remind them not to let the warlocks too close,” Rose whispered. “They mustn’t underestimate how dangerous they are.”
Neridia nodded, straightening up again. “My captains,” she said, addressing her forces. “In the coming battle, all warriors—no matter what their role—must fully understand the danger. The enemy must be kept at arm’s-length. If they lay a single hand on you, they can bind you to their will.”
“Surely honor shall be our shield—” a sea dragon knight began.
“It won’t!” Rose interrupted. Some of the warriors glared at her coldly, clearly not appreciate a mere civilian raising her voice at a council of war, but she ignored them. “It’s not a matter of honor, or willpower, or anything else. If they touch you, they’ll have you. I should know, one of them bound me. And he controlled me, utterly, mind and body. I couldn’t do anything to resist.”
A couple of nearby knights exchanged significant glances. She knew what they were thinking: Well, of course she wouldn’t be strong enough to break free.
“Listen,” she said, desperate to make them understand. “It wasn’t anything to do with the fact that I’m just a swan, not a mythic shifter, or even a warrior. Warlocks bound John Doe, one of your own kind!”
“The Royal Consort was taken unaware,” a looming warrior rumbled. “We shall not be.”
“Don’t be arrogant,” Rose snapped. “A warlock bound the Phoenix, for crying out loud. Do you honestly think yourself stronger than him?”
“As I understand it, he bowed his neck willingly to that leash,” another knight interjected, with a distinct note of disapproval. “Trading himself for you.”
“That was the second time they got him. He was bound by them before, for years and years. He only managed to break free because…because…”
She trailed off. She had a very clear mental image of the Phoenix rising in fury from the warlock base, twenty years ago, but she was still struggling to put her shattered memories in the correct order. What had happened just before that?