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I had no idea. I thought I was just a magic user like my mother, but it turned out I was wrong. On the day I was thrown down here, that’s what saved me. They killed me, but I was reborn in flames as a bird.

I have died ten times since and was reborn stronger each time. I’m unkillable, they know it, and now so do these men as I dive bomb them with a squawk. They flatten themselves to the bridge, and I land on human feet, changing with a thought, and wait for them to look at me.

“Let’s get going. We don’t want to miss the window, do we?” I turn, walking across the bridge.

Their furious, shocked eyes watch me go.

CHAPTER

THREE

Aphoenix? It’s impossible.

Like us?

I don’t know who thinks it. It’s shared knowledge. We know each other’s every thought and action. That is how our connection works. We are one yet still individuals. Whoever’s thoughts those were isn’t wrong though—we, too, are creatures of myth—but a phoenix? The last known phoenix died four generations ago. They were revered for their powers and ability to regenerate, and they were said to be unkillable, though many tried in hopes of stripping them of their powers, especially mages. The last phoenix was believed to have chosen to die out of loneliness and boredom.

I know what I saw, though. What is her mother?

A mage, someone thinks, and I nod, though it brings more questions than answers. We only met with her mother’s mate, and it was once outside of Gehenna, after being contacted. We did our research, as we always do. This phoenix’s mother is one of the strongest magic users in the world, notoriously private, and unlikable. She was also cold enough to throw her daughter in here.

My hands stray to my guns on my belt, stroking them as I watch her wander ahead without a care in the world. No wonder she did not fear us or death. Even if she dies, she will be reborn, which begs the question: how the fuck do you kill a phoenix?

Let’s focus on the mate bond first, someone else thinks, then we will go from there.

It’s a pragmatic thought, so it’s probably Kitt. Either way, now is not the time, so we follow her. At the other side, Kitt passes her, staring down at the soul finder. Our contact is waiting at the exit, holding the portal open. They were able to get through Gehenna’s defences but unable to stay for long. The watch is linked to that magic and will guide us there, but we need to be quick or we will all perish down here, especially after what we saw. My estimation of this woman only goes up the more we discover. She is either very strong or very good at making friends, and from the bones she mentioned, I would guess it’s the first.

“From the way you’re glaring at me, cowboy, I would think you were going to try to shoot me again,” she comments as she falls into step at my side.

“I’m thinking about it.” I’m unused to speaking out loud, but she doesn’t seem to notice the slow cadence of my words or the rough, unused tone.

Wagging her finger at me, she smiles brightly again. “We’ve already been through this. It’s pointless.”

“Does your mother know you’re a phoenix?” I ask.

Her smile is secretive and angry. “If she had, she never would have let them throw me in here as an example. She would have drained my magic first.”

“So you didn’t know until you were down here?” Raiden asks with a scoff as he boxes her in on the other side, but she doesn’t seem the least bit bothered.

“A phoenix’s power is only born after their first death, or at least that’s what Spike told me. He was around when they were. I died the day I arrived here, but I awoke in flames. It didn’t stop them from trying, all but Spike, who realised what I was.”

“How did you survive?” I ask curiously, and I feel the others’ anger in my head at my interest, but I ignore it. Despite them wanting her dead, they are curious too.

“I died many times, ten to be exact, before I started winning. Each time, I came back stronger. I honed myself into a weapon so not even the deadliest monster could touch me. You kill enough monsters and eventually they begin to hesitate. Ten years is a long time to build a reputation.” The look she gives me is dark. “I would hazard a guess that you know a lot about doing what it takes to survive.”

She means my scars. I don’t respond, just look ahead. Unbothered by our cool, hate-filled attitude, she sings to herself as she walks between us.

Should we try an accident again? someone asks.

No, it’s not worth it. She will only be reborn. We might as well wait until we are out of here, since we might need her to get through this place.

Begrudgingly, we walk with our prey as the prison changes from chamber to chamber, yet there is one thing that remains consistent—it’s dark and filled with monsters. They keep their distance, watching us hungrily.

“If we carry on this way, we’ll reach the killing field. That will be fun,” she says, and Torrin glances back, his horns moving as he ducks his head with a frown.

“Killing field?” he rumbles.

“It’s where the dying and desperate go, the twisted, sick monsters that are little more than wraiths now and unkillable. They feed on anyone who draws near to remain alive. Nobody makes it through, so it will be fun.” She claps her hands.