clearing path that led to Stepanov’s podium.
Hands braced on the railing, Stepanov lorded over the war below like a general or a king, a vile smirk plastered across his pale face.
I kissed Hiro’s cheek quickly and took off. One last, backwards glance showed Ryder covered in dark tendrils of magic that slowly crept toward the Councilman.
In the distance, Joshua slithered and wove around Rahal’s scorpion form, dodging the sharp snap of claws and lethal sting of his tail. I knew he would have consumed my blood immediately, counting on it to counteract his intense sensitivity to the cold in this form.
I swung back toward Stepanov and our eyes locked in a deadly stare down. Dark shadows shifted over his face, coming from above, as crows emerged from all directions to circle around me. A sharp beak nipped at my hand as they descended, cawing in a flurry of feathers and talons to rake my skin and draw blood.
My Phoenix hissed and writhed, and together we blasted a tidal wave of heat, singeing feathers to keep the sharp beaks and talons from inflicting more wounds.
I’m almost there, I alerted the guys, but no one responded.
I chanced a glance behind me to see them all fighting, and I threw myself forward with new vigor, eager to end this once and for all.
Long, razor-sharp talons dug into my shoulders, and with a painful tug, I was off my feet and flying through the air.
A ragged breath left my lungs as I writhed and tried to get free, daring a glance above to see a mass of black feathers so dark they glowed with sheens of purples and blues depending on how the light caught them. Blood dripped down my chest and arms from where the massive claws held me, ripping holes in flesh and muscle before the creature dropped me on the top of a ledge overlooking the battle below.
I gasped for breath, pressing a hand to one shoulder even though moving hurt like a bitch.
The skeletal creature landed and cocked its bony head at me, assessing me shrewdly through dark, bottomless eyes that promised to swallow me whole and never let me see the light of day again.
“Stepanov,” I called, my voice raw as he shifted in a flutter of feathers before pulling on a robe he must have planted here on this rock. Pulling the belt tight, he smiled, the expression bone-chilling.
I pushed to my feet, ignoring my aching wounds.
“So happy you could join me, Annika. Didn’t I tell you we’d have ourselves a little family reunion?” He motioned around him at the small table and chairs he’d had transferred up here, like we were going to sit down and have tea while he tried to kill my mates and everyone I loved.
“That’s a bit twisted.” I narrowed my eyes on the elaborate setup.
“All part of my madness, I suppose. I was so hoping you would stop this rebellion nonsense and join me. You must see that you have no hope of winning.” He smiled, the expression all wrong on his face. Forced. Fake.
The clang of weapons, crash of bodies, cries of the dying, and shouts of battle lifted around us, filling the air with the sounds of our mortality.
“We can stop this, Stepanov,” I pleaded, giving my father one chance, the only one he’d ever get from me, to end this now. “Stop the madness. Our world doesn’t need shifters tearing other shifters apart. There are so few of us as it is. Step down, abdicate your position, and this will all end.”
“And what?” he sneered, studying his blood covered hands as he paced closer to me. “Spend the rest of my days in a cell? No, I don’t think so. I’m too much of a risk for you to keep alive. But don’t you remember, child?” He flung his arms wide. “I am death. All of this is for naught, Annika, for I cannot die, and you, unfortunately, cannot live.”
Watching me, he brought his hand to his mouth and licked my blood obscenely from his fingers.
My hands created fireballs that swirled in my palms. “Then we end this here. Today.”
“So eager to die?” Stepanov narrowed his eyes. “Just like your bitch of a mother. She thought she could escape me. No one, not even a phoenix, can escape death.” His voice dropped low, his tenor deep as he threatened me with the same fate that befell my mother.
Stepanov lunged, drawing weapons that had been concealed in the wide sleeves