From the jagged ledge above the smoldering ruins, two shadows watched the girl who defied death.
Rose stood amid her mates—three of them now. The Phoenix. The Dragon Lord. And the Lycan.
Jake crouched beside Vlad, adjusting the long-range spyglass. He didn’t need it to see the flare of power curling off her skin like steam. He could feel her from here—sweet, aching magic that made his mouth dry and his teeth itch.
“She’s changed,” he murmured.
“No,” Vlad said behind him, voice like smoke and polished glass. “She’s awakening. There’s a difference.”
Below, Rose laughed—golden and raw—as her wings fanned out, one flame-bright, the other dark as unlit stars. Her hair danced on the wind, and her skin shimmered faintly where her mates’ marks bound her soul.
Alex leaned into her, murmuring
