Page 71 of Shrine of Fire

I squeezed the heat back down, like Sister Margery had taught me. Let it flow back into my body, warming my blood.

“You’ll want to do that, but opposite.” Kalahar murmured next to my ear. “Let your fire flow out.”

Immediately I shook my head. “This is stone, but still, I could—”

“Hurt me?” Kalahar sounded amused. I opened my eyes enough to see the flames smoldering in his gaze. “I am a spirit of fire and death. You could never hurt me.”

I glanced around. “But the altar room…”

“Is stone and earth. And if you truly think it will get out of hand, remember, I can ensure it goes no further.”

I opened my mouth to object, but I’d seen him twice now as a firebird and I let go of any doubt that he could control the flames.

“Alright.” I let out a breath and tried to calm myself.

“You may meditate on your breath if you would like,” Kalahar said, his hands squeezing my shoulders. “But in my experience, calm is not what calls the flames.”

My body went molten at the image of the fire licking my body, Kalahar’s mouth following.

I shoved that away. Desire had no place here, not when Kalahar had tried so hard to keep me at arm’s length.

And then he leaned forward and kissed me.

I took his mouth hungrily, wrapping my arms around him. He was hot, his mouth wet and warm against mine. He devoured me, licking inside my mouth with a hungry noise that made the heat inside me fan out, prickling my skin.

“Kalahar,” I panted. “I know you don’t want—”

“I do,” He growled. “More than I can bear. Even opening up your magic the little bit you have has me panting.”

“Why don’t I help you center your fire?” He nipped my ear, and I gasped, clutched him against me. The stone behind me was cool but it was a blessed contrast against heat burning inside me.

“Yes,” I panted.

“Good. Center yourself on your fire, gather it up inside you.”

It was harder to concentrate when he nibbled down my neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses. I hooked my leg around his waist, and he lifted me up onto the altar.

I found the center of my magic, a hot burning coal inside me. Around it felt cold, colder than any ice or heartbreak. It was how Hella Mora kept using me. I couldn’t get rid of grief instantaneously, any more than I could heal a broken arm overnight, but getting rid of that cold dead weight inside me would allow me to heal better.

The phoenix looked up at me, and I lost myself in his fiery gaze. There was only us, no one else in the world.

He leaned into the kiss, soft and sweet. He cupped my face, and I sighed against him.

“You have a heart full of love.” He nibbled along my lip. “Let yourself be open, a conduit. There is a time to close off, to protect yourself, but in this sacred place you are safe.”

I whimpered, curled around him. He settled himself between my legs, and I shuddered at the weight of him against my center. I wanted him inside me, wanted him as close as anyone could get.

He stroked his hands slowly down my sides, over and over with sensual erotic motions until I was squirming against him. Chuckling, he slipped my heavy coat, and then paused with his hands on the hem of my dress.

“May I look at you?”

“Please.”

The red-haired spirit lifted my dress over my head then looked down at me and murmured, “So beautiful.”

He drew his hands down my front, lingering on my breasts. My breath came in short gasps, as wetness seeped from my core.

“If you’re teasing…”

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