17. Chapter 17 Phoenix

Chapter 17 Phoenix

T he familiar jungle of an old cartoon filled my living room, a comforting backdrop to the clink of ice in crystal glasses. I lounged on my oversized sofa, feet tucked under me, savoring the smooth burn of a rum older than I was. Talia sprawled beside me, her own glass sporting a ridiculous paper umbrella that clashed spectacularly with the vintage liquor.

"I still can't believe you have this collection," Talia mused, eyeing the bottle on the coffee table with reverence. "It's like, what? Older than both of us combined?"

I nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. "It was my mom's passion. One of the few things my dad kept even after she died…the only thing I've been able to hold on to." I stopped shot, the familiar ache blooming in my chest.

Talia's hand found mine, squeezing gently. "Hey, none of that. We're on staycation, after vacation, remember? No ghosts allowed. "

I forced a laugh, pushing the memories back into their neatly labeled boxes. "Right. Staycation. Nothing but cartoons and booze and pretending the real world doesn't exist."

On screen, a cat chased a mouse with a comically oversized mallet. The simplicity of it, the utter absurdity, made me laugh. God, when was the last time I'd laughed like that? Freely, without the weight of secrets and guilt pressing down on me?

The Maldives had been…not healing, exactly. But a respite. A chance to breathe, to remember what it felt like to exist outside the suffocating bubble of my own obsessions.

For the first time in weeks, I'd slept through the night without nightmares. Without reaching for a phantom warmth beside me, only to remember that Damon was gone.

Damon. Even now, safe in my living room fortress and booze, the thought of him sent a pang through my chest. I'd done my best to push him from my mind during the trip, to focus on healing and finding myself again.

But he was always there, lurking at the edges of my consciousness. A constant ache, like a bruise I couldn't stop pressing.

Talia's phone chimed again, drawing my attention. She glanced at it, a small frown creasing her brow before she schooled her features into neutrality.

"Everything okay? I thought you said no phones today," I asked, unable to keep the suspicion from my voice. Talia was many things, but subtle wasn't one of them.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Everything's fine." She waved a dismissive hand, but I caught the way her eyes darted to the door and back. "Hey speaking of fine…how are you feeling about the whole Damon situation these days? "

I tensed, my grip tightening on my glass. "There is no ‘Damon situation.' We're done, remember? Over. Finito."

Talia's expression was skeptical, her eyebrow arched in that infuriating way that said she saw right through my bullshit. "Uh-huh. And that's why you spent half the trip mooning over his Instagram and rereading those poems he sent."

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I fought the need to run away from this entire conversation because. "I did not-"

A knock at the door cut me off, three sharp raps that echoed through the apartment like gunshots. Talia's phone chimed again, and this time I definitely caught the guilty look that flashed across her face.

"Talia," I started slowly, intuition told me, she was up to no good. "What did you do?"

She had the grace to look sheepish, even as she practically vaulted over the back of the couch. "Nothing! I just…maybe you should answer that."

Before I could protest, she was pulling me to my feet and all but shoving me toward the door. I stumbled, nearly tripping over my own feet as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Tal, what the hell-"

The words died in my throat as I wrenched open the door, revealing a sight that stole the breath from my lungs.

Damon stood there, resplendent in a black suit that hugged every lean line of his body. But it wasn't the suit that caught my eye - it was the dozens of rose stems woven into the fabric, their thorns glinting wickedly in the hall light. More roses carpeted the floor at his feet, a sea of crimson petals that stretched as far as I can see.

Behind him, the rest of Coffin Cargo was arrayed in a semicircle, portable amps at the ready. They looked uncomfortable and determined, like they'd been roped into some harebrained scheme but were committed to seeing it through.

"Phoenix," Damon breathed, his voice rough with too many emotions to name. "I-"

I slammed the door in his face.

"What the fuck?" I whirled on Talia, who at least had the decency to look contrite. "Did you know about this?"

She held her hands up in surrender. "I may have had an inkling. But come on, Nixie. You can't tell me you're not even a little curious about what he has to say."

I open my mouth to argue, to tell her exactly where Damon could shove his grand gestures and his thorny suits. But before I could get the words out, the opening chords of a song filtered through the door. A song I'd never heard before, but one that wrapped around my heart like a vise.

Damon's voice, that smoky rasp that had haunted my dreams for weeks, poured through the wood like liquid silk:

"I'm a man of broken promises, a soul stained black as night, But your love, it was my beacon, guiding me towards the light. I stumbled in the darkness, lost my way and lost my mind, But your memory, it sustained me, the only truth I could find.

Phoenix, my flame, my heart's desire, I'm nothing but ash without your fire. Give me one more chance to make it right, To be the man you deserve, to hold you tight.

I know I don't deserve forgiveness, don't deserve your grace, But I'm on my knees before you, begging for one last embrace. I'll spend my life making amends, proving my love is true, Phoenix, my salvation, I'm lost and found in you."

The last notes faded away, leaving behind a silence so profound I could hear my own heart thundering in my ears. Tears streamed down my face, hot and unrelenting. I hadn't even realized I was crying.

"Phoenix?" Damon's voice was muffled through the door, uncertain and vulnerable in a way I'd never heard before. "Please. Just…just let me explain. Let me try to make this right."

I looked to Talia, silently pleading for guidance. For someone to tell me what to do, how to navigate this minefield of emotions threatening to tear me apart.

She smiled softly, encouragement and understanding shining in her eyes. "Hear him out, babe. What have you got to lose?"

Everything, I wanted to scream. My heart, my sanity, the fragile peace I'd fought so hard to find. But even as the thought formed, I knew it was a lie. Because the truth was, I had already given it to him…then lost all of it. I'd lost it the moment I walked out of that studio and left Damon behind.

With shaking hands, I reached for the doorknob. Took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever came next. And opened the door.

Damon stood there, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate. The thorns on his suit had torn through the fabric in places, leaving angry red welts on his skin. He looked like he'd been through hell and back and my traitorous heart ached at the sight.

"You look like shit," I said, my voice hoarse with unshed tears.

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. "Yeah, well, turns out thorns and expensive tailoring don't mix too well."

Despite everything the corners of my mouth twitched upwards. "You always did have a flair for the dramatic."

"Only for you, firebird." The nickname spoken with such reverence, sent a shiver down my spine. "Only ever for you. "

We stood there for a long moment, drinking each other in. All the things I wanted to say, all the hurt and the anger and longing, bubbled up in my throat. But before I could give voice to any of it, Talia cleared her throat pointedly.

"As touching as this reunion is," she said, "maybe we should take this inside before the neighbors call the cops. I don't think they'd appreciate an impromptu rock concert in the hallway."

I nodded, stepping back to allow them entry. The guys filed in, a parade of leather and denim that looked comically out of place in my tastefully decorated living room. Zane nodded a greeting, while the twins - Ty and Jax - made a beeline for Talia. I raised an eyebrow at the way she preened under their attention, making a mental note to grill her about that later.

Damon was the last to enter, hesitating on the threshold like he wasn't sure he was welcome. The uncertainty in his eyes, so at odds with his usual cocky demeanor, made my chest ache.

"You can come in, too," I said softly. "I'm not going to bite. I don't eat people on Tuesdays."

He huffed out a laugh, running a hand through his disheveled white hair. "Wouldn't blame you if you did. God knows I deserve it."

I caught the faintest whiff of his cologne - sandalwood and spice, achingly familiar. Memories assaulted me, vivid and visceral. The press of his body against mine, the taste of his skin, the way he'd look at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away. Now wasn't the time to get lost in what-ifs and might-have-beens.

"So," I said, crossing my arms over my chest like a shield. "You wanted to explain. Explain. "

Damon nodded, taking a deep breath. But before he could speak, Jax cleared his throat, an excited gleam in his eye that I recognized all too well.

"Sorry to interrupt the touching reunion," he said, not looking sorry at all, "but we've got some news that might change things."

I frowned, looking between him and Damon. "What are you talking about?"

Damon's expression shifted to one of relief, and maybe fear. "It's about Marcus Wade," He said softly. "We… We found him, Phoenix."

The world tilted on its axis, the air rushing from my lungs in a dizzying whoosh.

"What?" I breathed, certain I must have misheard. "That's…that's not possible. I've been looking for so long, used so many of my favors…"

Zane grinned, practically beaming with pride as he spoke. "Turns out our boy wonder here has some hidden talents. Who knew those fingers were good for more than playing those ivory and black keys and keeping the beat?"

I barely registered his words, my mind reeling with the implications. Marcus Wade. The key to unlocking the mystery of my mother's death, the man who held all the answers.

"Where is he?" I demanded, my voice sharp with urgency. "How did you find him?"

"Whoa, easy there tiger," Ty said, holding up his hands. "Maybe we should all sit down for this. It's kind of a long story."

I nodded mechanically, allowing Talia to guide me to the couch. Damon hesitated for a moment before joining me, leaving a careful distance between us. The others arranged themselves around the room, an impromptu war council in my living room .

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath to steady my frayed nerves. "Start from the top, tell me everything."

As Jax launched into an explanation that involved far more technical jargon than I was prepared for, I felt a tentative touch on my hand. I looked down to see Damon's fingers intertwined with mine, a silent offer of support.

I should have pulled away. Should have maintained the distance, the walls I'd worked so hard to build. But in that moment, faced with the possibility of finally uncovering the truth about my mother's death, I found myself clinging to his hand like a lifeline.

Whatever came next, whatever revelations awaited us…I knew I couldn't face it alone. And as I sat there, surrounded by this unlikely family of misfits and rockstars, I knew that everything would be alright.

The hunt for Marcus Wade had consumed me for so long, had nearly destroyed everything I held dear. But now, with the promise of answers on the horizon, I was ready.

Ready to lay my mother's ghost to rest.

And maybe, just maybe, to find a way forward. A future that included both justice for my past and the possibility of love in my present.

As Jax's words washed over me, painting a picture of hidden identities and digital breadcrumbs, I squeezed Damon's hand. He squeezed back, a silent reminder that he was still here…still with me.

Jax finished his explanation, and a heavy silence fell over the room. The magnitude of what they'd discovered - of what it could mean for me - seemed to press in from all sides.

Talia was the first to move, clapping her hands together with forced cheerfulness. "Well, I think that's enough excitement for one day. Come on, boys. Let's give these two some space to process."

The guys shuffled to their feet, exchanging meaningful glances. Zane patted Damon's shoulder as he passed, a wordless show of support. Ty and Jax lingered by Talia, their heads bent close in conspiratorial whispers that I chose to ignore for the sake of my sanity.

I stood there, watching as Talia herded the guys out of my apartment, throwing exaggerated winks and meaningful looks over her shoulder. The door clicked shut behind them with a finality that echoed in the sudden stillness, leaving Damon and I alone for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

***

A charged silence stretched between us, heavy with all the things left unsaid. I could feel Damon's gaze on me, tangible as a touch, but I couldn't quite bring myself to meet it.

Not yet. Not when the wounds were still so raw, the betrayal still a bitter taste on my tongue.

"Phoenix..." Damon's voice was a rough rasp, barely louder than a whisper. "I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you in ways I can never take back."

I squeezed my eyes shut, emotion rising in my throat like bile. "Why?" The question burst out of me, jagged and bleeding. "Why did you do it, Damon? Why did you throw away everything we had for a fucking fix?"

He flinched as if I'd struck him, agony etching itself into the lines of his beautiful face. "I wish I had a good answer for you. I wish I could say it was a one-time mistake, a momentary lapse. But the truth is...I'm weak, Phoenix. I'm a fucking coward who's been running from my demons for so long, I don't know how to stand still."

Tears burned behind my eyelids, hot and insistent. I blinked them back furiously, refusing to let them fall. "You should have come to me," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I could have helped you, Damon. I would have done anything-"

"I know." He cut me off gently, his fingers twitching at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for me. "God, baby, I know. But I couldn't do that to you. Couldn't drag you down with me, make you watch me self-destruct. I thought...I thought I was protecting you."

A harsh laugh tore from my throat, brittle and humorless. "Well, bang up job there. Really stellar work."

Shame flickered in the depths of his eyes, darkening the silver to stormy gray. "I'm so fucking sorry, Phoenix. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough. I'm sorry I didn't love you the way you deserved to be loved."

The words hit me like a sucker punch, stealing my breath and shattering the fragile dam of composure I'd been clinging to.

A sob wrenched its way out of my chest, raw and bleeding, and then Damon's arms were around me, crushing me to the solid heat of his chest.

I went willingly, helplessly, too tired to fight the magnetic pull that had always existed between us. I fisted my hands in the soft cotton of his shirt, breathed in the achingly familiar scent of him - sandalwood and secrets and home.

"I missed you," I mumbled into his chest, the admission scraping my throat raw. "I tried so hard not to, but I did. Every second of every day."

Damon's arms tightened around me, his breath shuddering out on a ragged exhale. "I know the feeling," he rasped, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Being without you...it's like missing a fucking limb. Like some essential part of me has been carved out, leaving nothing but a gaping wound."

I pulled back just far enough to look up at him, my eyes searching his face. The honesty I found there, the naked anguish and determination, made my heart stumble in my chest.

"How do I know it'll be different this time?" I asked softly, hating the waver in my voice. "How do I know you won't run again, the second things get hard? The second the road gets rocky and the temptation to numb it all out rears its ugly head?"

Damon's hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away the traitorous tear that escaped down my cheek. "Because I'm done running, Phoenix. I'm done being a slave to my addictions, to the darkness inside me. I want to stand in the light again. At your side, where I belong."

His forehead dropped to rest against mine, his eyes squeezing shut as if he couldn't bear to look at me. "I know I have to earn your trust again. I know I have to prove to you that I'm strong enough to weather any storm, as long as you're my anchor. And I will, baby. I'll spend every day for the rest of my life showing you that your faith in me wasn't misplaced. That the man you fell in love with, the man you saw behind the scars and the self-loathing...he's still in here. Still fighting for you. For us."

Emotion clogged my throat, thick and choking. I swallowed hard around it, my hands coming up to frame Damon's face.

"I want to believe you," I whispered, my thumbs tracing the sharp angle of his cheekbones. "God, Damon, I want that more than anything. But I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared of losing myself in you again, of handing you my heart just to watch you crush it all over again."

"I know." Pain rippled across his features, telegraphing his understand deep into my bones. "I'm scared, too. Scared of fucking this up, of proving to everyone that I'm exactly the kind of poison they always thought I was."

My heart cracked, spilling open against my ribcage. I leaned up, brushing my mouth over his in the barest whisper of a kiss.

"You're not poison," I murmured against his lips, the words a fervent vow. "You're not beyond redemption or unworthy of love. But Damon...you have to love yourself first. You have to believe that you deserve happiness, that you deserve a fucking chance at peace. Because if you don't...this is never going to work."

His eyes blazed into mine, hot and intent, his hands flexing on my hips like he couldn't stand the microscopic distance between us. "I'm trying," he rasped, his voice cracking under the weight of it. "I'm in therapy, I'm going to meetings. I'm doing everything I can to rewire the self-destructive patterns in my brain. To be the man you need me to be. The man I want to be, for myself and for you."

I swallowed hard, a riot of emotions swirling in my gut. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe in him, in us - with an intensity that terrified me.

But the scars on my heart, the still bleeding wounds of loss and betrayal, wouldn't let me give in. Not yet. But I could give him this. Give us this moment, this promise of a new beginning.

So I stretched up on my toes and captured his mouth with mine - a soft, sweet claiming. He met me with equal gentleness, his lips moving over mine in a slow, soul-deep caress that said more than words ever could.

This wasn't a fevered clash of teeth and tongue, not the desperate grasping of two people drowning in lust and adrenaline. This was a vow, a covenant. An absolution and a blessing, whispered into the scant space between our bodies.

Damon's arms banded around me, one large hand splaying across my lower back to press me closer. I sighed into his mouth, my fingers tangling in the soft hair at his nape as I lost myself in his kisses, in his touch. In him.

By the time we finally surfaced, we were both breathless and glassy-eyed. I leaned my forehead against his chest, listening to the strong, steady thump of his heart beneath my ear as I struggled to rein in my wildly spinning thoughts.

"So what now?" Damon murmured, his fingers tracing idle patterns up and down my spine. "Where do we go from here?"

I lifted my head to meet his gaze, searching the turbulent silver depths for any hint of doubt or hesitation. But all I found was an unshakeable certainty that made my knees weak and my heart flutter.

"We take it slow," I said softly, trying not to let the tremor in my voice betray the wild hope rioting in my chest. "We rebuild what we lost, brick by brick. And we communicate - openly, honestly, even when it's hard. Even when all we want to do is run and hide from the messy parts."

Damon nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I think I can handle that."

A wry chuckle escaped me, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "I'm still mad at you, you know. Like, epically pissed. That's not just going to go away with a song and a suit full of thorns."

His smile widened, turning wicked at the edges. "Ah, but it's a start, though, right? Gotta begin my groveling somewhere."

I rolled my eyes even as my heart kicked against my ribs, giddy and effervescent .

This was the Damon I'd fallen in love with - playful and teasing, quick with a quip and a smirk. The shadows were still there, lurking in the depths of his gaze, but they didn't seem quite so suffocating anymore.

Like maybe, just maybe, we could learn to live with them. To accept them as a part of our story, without letting them define us.

My phone chimed, shattering the fragile cocoon of warmth and possibility we'd spun around ourselves. I slipped out of Damon's embrace with a rueful smile, my skin already mourning the loss of his touch.

Squinting down at the screen, I let out a soft huff of amusement. "It's Jax. He says, and I quote, 'stop mackin' on my boy and send him to rehearsal. Mayhem waits for no man, not even the whipped ones.'"

Damon snorted, shaking his head.

"Fucker." But there was affection threaded through the word, warm and rich as honey. "Guess that means I'm already late."

"Guess so." I bit my lip, glancing up at him from beneath my lashes. "I could give you a ride? I don't have to be anywhere for a few hours, and the studio's not far..."

His gaze turned molten, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in a way that made my stomach clench and my thighs press together.

"I'd like that," he murmured, the words a dark rasp that made me wet. "I'd like that a whole fucking lot."

We made it to my car in record time, the air between us crackling with barely leashed hunger. I'd barely put the key in the ignition before Damon's hand was on my thigh, his touch branding me through the thin denim of my jeans.

"Drive," he commanded softly, his lips brushing the shell of my ear and making me shiver. "Before I say fuck the rehearsal and take you right here."

My brain short-circuited, a needy whimper escaping my throat at the promise in his voice, the hot press of his fingers flexing on my thigh. But I rallied, turning the key with a white-knuckled grip and peeling out of the garage like hellhounds were nipping at my heels.

The drive was a sweet, agonizing torture - Damon's hand never leaving my thigh, his nearness an electrifying hum that danced along my nerve endings.

By the time I pulled into the back alley behind the studio, my skin was flushed and tingling, my breath coming in shallow pants.

I put the car in park, my hands shaking ever so slightly as I turned to face him. He was already watching me, his eyes black and burning in the shadows of the garage.

"Come here," he rasped, curling a hand around my nape and tugging me into a kiss that incinerated any remaining thought in my head.

I went willingly, eagerly, my mouth opening under the onslaught of his as he pulled me across the console and into his lap. I straddled his hips, gasping into his mouth as the hard, insistent press of his arousal nestled against my core.

"Damon," I panted, my hands scrabbling at his shoulders as he trailed his lips down the column of my throat, his teeth scraping over my pulse point. "We can't - the guys -"

"Fuck the guys," he growled, his hands sliding under the thin cotton of my tank top to splay across the fevered skin of my waist. "You have no idea what it does to me, seeing you like this. Stripped bare, no more armor or walls. Just you, trusting me enough to let me see all of you."

Tears pricked behind my eyes, my heart threatening to beat right out of my chest. Somewhere along the way, without me ever making a conscious decision, my wardrobe had shifted from turtlenecks and strategically draped scarves to this - simple tank tops and jeans, my scars bared to the world like a challenge .

Like a declaration that I was done hiding, done being ashamed of the roadmap of my survival etched into my skin.

And the fact that Damon saw that, respected it, revered it, even? It made me want to give him everything, lay myself bare in every way imaginable and pray that he wouldn't flinch.

That he would worship my scars, my damage, right along with the rest of me.

So I did.

I let him strip me with reverent hands, his fingers and lips mapping every silvery mark, every puckered reminder of the wars I'd fought and won. He laid me out on the hood of my car like an offering, the metal cool and smooth against my bare skin.

And then he proceeded to take me apart with hands and teeth and tongue, his dark head buried between my thighs as he feasted on me like a man starved. He played my body like he played his guitar - with passion and skill and single-minded intensity, wringing sounds from my throat I didn't know I was capable of making.

Until I was quaking and pleading, my fingers tangled in his hair as I rode his face with desperate, greedy rolls of my hips. He brought me to the edge again and again, only to back off with a dark chuckle when I teetered on the brink, ignoring my whimpers of protest.

"Damon, please," I keened, my head thrashing against the hood.

"Please what, beautiful?" He purred, the words muffled against my slick, swollen flesh. "Tell me what you need."

"I need to come," I half-sobbed, too far gone to care about the needy desperation in my voice. "Please, I need it. I need you."

He groaned, long and low, the sound vibrating through me like a second heartbeat. And then he sealed his lips around my clit and sucked - hard .

I shattered with a silent scream, my back bowing off the hood as pleasure ripped through me in violent, crashing waves. Damon worked me through it, his clever tongue lapping at me until I was limp and boneless, utterly wrung out from the force of my climax.

Finally, finally, he gentled his touch, pressing soft, sweet kisses to the insides of my thighs as he eased me down. By the time he crawled up my body to take my mouth in a slow, thorough kiss, I was floating on a hazy cloud of bliss.

I could taste myself on his tongue, tangy and forbidden. It made me clench around nothing, a dull ache pulsing between my legs.

"You are so fucking perfect," Damon rasped as he pulled back to stare down at me, his eyes glittering with satisfaction and naked adoration. "Perfect and mine. All mine."

A shiver rolled through me at the blatant possession in his voice, the unshakable conviction. Once upon a time, the idea of being claimed like that, owned, would have made me run screaming in the opposite direction.

But now, with this man, this beautiful, flawed, fierce man...it felt right. Like shelter, like surrender, like finally finding my way home.

My lips curved in a slow, sated smile as I reached up to stroke his stubbled cheek. "Yours," I agreed softly, the word a vow. "And you're mine."

He turned his head to press a kiss to my palm, his eyes fluttering shut like he was savoring the feel of my skin against his.

"Always," he said roughly, the word muffled against my flesh. "For as long as you'll have me."

We stayed like that for a long moment, suspended in a fragile bubble of quiet. Just drinking each other in, marveling at the impossible, wonderful fact that we were here. That despite everything, all the chaos and heartbreak and pain, we'd found our way back to each other.

But our stolen pocket of peace couldn't last forever. All too soon, our little cocoon was shattered by the obnoxious blare of a car horn from the mouth of the alley.

I groaned, burying my face in Damon's neck as he let out a rueful chuckle. "That'll be Jax," he murmured, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the bare skin of my back. "Subtlety isn't exactly his strong suit."

"Clearly," I grumbled, but there was no real heat to it. As much as I wanted to stay here, cocooned in Damon's arms and the heady afterglow of my release, I knew the real world couldn't be kept at bay forever.

With a sigh, I disentangled myself from his embrace and slid off the hood of the car, my knees wobbling slightly as I tried to remember how to stand on my own two feet.

Damon steadied me with a hand on my hip, his touch lingering even as I bent to gather my scattered clothes.

We dressed in comfortable silence, sneaking glances and secret smiles like a pair of lovesick teenagers. By the time we were both presentable, the reality of our situation had started to settle back in, the glow of our reunion dimming under the weight of all that still lay ahead.

Damon must have sensed the shift in my mood, because he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my cheek in a tender caress.

"Hey," he said softly, ducking his head to catch my gaze. "We're going to figure this out, Phoenix. The band, the label, your dad, Marcus...all of it. Don't worry about it too much okay."

I leaned into his touch, my eyes fluttering shut as I let his certainty wash over me like a balm. "Promise?" I whispered, hating the waver in my voice.

"Promise," he vowed, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "I'm not going anywhere, firebird. Not this time."

I took a deep, fortifying breath, letting his words sink into my skin like ink, branding themselves on my bones. Then I straightened my spine and stepped out of the shelter of his arms, turning to face the mouth of the alley where Jax's car idled impatiently.

"Go," I said, jerking my chin toward the waiting vehicle. "Before he comes over here and drags you out by your ear."

Damon huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Bossy. I like it."

I rolled my eyes, even as my lips twitched with a barely suppressed smile. "Yeah, well, get used to it. I have a feeling I'll be cracking the whip quite a bit in the foreseeable future, what with Mayhem breathing down our necks and you needing to be kept in line."

His grin turned wicked, his eyes sparking with a heat that made my stomach swoop. "Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."

I shoved him lightly in the chest, laughing despite myself.

"Go," I repeated, infusing the word with all the affection and exasperation rioting in my chest. "I'll see you later."

He caught my hand before I could pull away, bringing it to his lips to brush a kiss across my knuckles. "Count on it," he murmured, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that stole my breath.

Then, with a final squeeze of my fingers, he released me and jogged toward Jax's car, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he went.

I watched him go, my heart doing a funny little stutter-step behind my ribs. It was crazy, this feeling - like the ground had shifted beneath my feet, the whole world rearranging itself to make room for this impossible, inevitable thing between us .

Just this morning, I'd been a ghost, drifting through my life like a specter shackled to her own grief and rage. But now? Now, I felt awake.

Alive, in a way I hadn't been since the night I walked into that godforsaken studio and found Damon with his tiny white lines.

It was terrifying and exhilarating, the knowledge that we weren't magically fixed, that we still had so much ground to cover and wounds to tend to. But for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was facing it alone.

Because even with a million and one obstacles looming on the horizon, even with the threat of my father's sins hanging like a blade over our heads...I had Damon.

I had his love, his fire, his unwavering faith in us and what we could be.

And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough. Enough to see us through the trials ahead, to forge something real and lasting from the ashes of our respective ruins.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me from my reverie. I fished it out, smiling down at the screen when I saw Talia's name.

How'd it go? Does lover boy still have his balls, or did you feed them to him for brunch?

I snorted, my thumb already moving to tap out a response. It went...well. Really well.

Butterflies took flight in my stomach as memories of the past hour flitted through my mind - Damon's hands on my skin, his mouth moving over mine with devastating precision.

The way he'd looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

It's a start , I typed, my lips curving with a soft, secret smile. A really good start .

Hitting send, I pocketed my phone and turned to head back inside, already itching to dive back into the hunt for Marcus Wade. There would be time later to dissect every word, every heated glance of my reunion with Damon.

But for now? For now, I had work to do, and leads to chase. A mother's ghost to lay to rest and a father's shadow to banish to the far corners of memory.

It wouldn't be a cakewalk. It might raze my soul to cinders and leave my hands raw and bleeding. But that was okay. Better than okay.

Because now I knew, with bone-deep certainty, that beauty could grow from the charred remains of yesterday's pains. That love, real love, could take root in even the most damaged, desolate spaces.

And for that precious, impossible truth, I would walk through fire a thousand times over.

I would burn and rebuild, again and again, until the woman in the mirror was someone I could recognize. Someone I could be proud of, scars and all.

Phoenix, rising. Always, forever, rising.