Page 56 of Shrine of Fire

“And rebirth?”

“You already know if you’re asking.” Kalahar chuckled. “Just as painful, if not worse.” He touched his stomach. He did a good job of hiding it, but the wound still hadn’t healed completely.

“Do phoenixes have a certain number of rebirths before their last?”

Kalahar looked shocked. He was beautiful, like carved marble, but now he looked like an ordinary person, one who’d been pleasantly surprised to find someone insightful. “We do. We never know if the next will be our last death.”

“Like mortals.”

“Yes. Mortals have their own cycles. Not as dramatic as phoenixes perhaps,” he rolled his eyes. “First friend. First lovemaking. Marriage. Giving birth to children and becoming a parent. Finding joy in a past time well spent.” He gestured at the scarf in my lap. “It all reshapes you into a different person than you were before.”

I released a long, slow breath. I didn’t know why, but something about the idea that we were constantly reshaping who we were as people was…cathartic.

Losing my pack had been devastating. As devastating as the level of joy I’d experienced at finding them, and both events had shaped me into the woman I was becoming.

I looked down at my scarf, mentally tracing the beige and blue pattern. “That’s some of my misery. It feels like betrayal, to experience life without them.”

Like falling in love again.

As soon as the thought took shape, I immediately pushed it away, like it was a hot coal. Following that train of thought would only hurt me; would only hurt the men around me.

Kalahar reached toward me. Somehow, the distance between us felt immense, like he was an ocean away. Or as though he was in the spirit world, with me in the mortal realm, and we were looking at each other across the vast expanse of time and space.

He put his hand on mine, and it was warm. “It is not betrayal you feel, but reluctance to change. You worry you will change so much that your pack will not recognize the new you.”

I nodded numbly. I regretted sitting in a chair. I wanted to lean against him, take in the warmth he was offering.

“They would not want you miserable and alone.”

“I know,” I whispered. My throat was thick and heavy, with feelings better left alone crowding my lungs.

“They will know you no matter what, Nova. No matter who you’re becoming, they will know the fire and passion inside you at any time and in any place, and they will love you just the same.”

I burst into tears. I tried to cover my face with my hands, to force the tears away, but Kalahar tugged me across into his lap. He tucked me under his chin, and warmth surrounded me, almost like being wrapped in a blanket. I opened my eyes and gasped.

Fiery wings surrounded me. The rest of the room was obscured, and the heat of the flames warmed me through to the core, like soaking in a hot bath.

I buried my face into his chest and cried as though my pack had died yesterday, not almost a year ago. I felt warm and safe, that I could fumble with the leftover pieces of my heart without worrying I would cut the other person with the jagged edges.

I cried and cried until the tears finally dried up. Until my insides felt hollow, yet clean. Not scraped raw, as they had for so long, but like an empty vessel waiting to be filled up.

I breathed in the scent of flame and heat. He didn’t smell like a bonfire, but like fire itself. It was a hard scent to pin down but made me think of when I released the flames from my hands, and heat filled me up with the life of creation.

“It is heavy work to carry those bonds with you.”

“They dissolved.” I sniffled. “When I was fighting the Faceless One with Zara.”

“No, they didn’t.” He kissed the top of my head, and I didn’t know if it was affection or due to the intimacy of the moment. His need to comfort me, to bleed away the pain inside me was palpable, and the force of it surprised me.

Maybe he wasn’t ignoring me because he wasn’t interested.

Maybe he was too interested and, like me, had his reasons to keep his distance.

“You cannot feel them anymore, because the…spirit link is not there.” Kalahar kept his arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me safe.

This was better than any nest. Being wrapped up tight in the arms of someone I cared about soothed me more than any small dark room, regardless of how many soft pillows and blankets it might have.

Kalahar’s voice was low and soothing. “They have moved on to the Land of the Dead, and that link will not stretch over the realms. But the connection you share is still there. You will probably sense it better when you have new packbonds.”

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