“Mother!” Kasia’s voice pierced the sweltering night air.
Serefina Amon raised her head, her black curls, so like Skylar’s own, matted to the sweat on her forehead at the effort that small movement took, her expression a mask of dread and determination.
Could she even get them out of here with that injury? She needed to, quickly. The house where they lived was located only ten miles from the diner. Pytheios would be here any second.
Skylar took a step forward but jerked to a stop when her mother gave a miniscule shake of her head. That’s all it took. That one tiny movement, and Skylar knew what was coming.
Their mother—their immortal mother who always had time on her side—was dying. This night, one phoenix would turn to ash, and another would rise to take her place. The only question was, would one rise? Or would all four of them?
Before that moment, though, Skylar knew her mother would send them away. Without her. That was the plan. Had always been the plan.
No. I’m not ready. I’m not strong enough to keep us all safe without you.
Serefina focused on her children—each as different from the other as the moon from the sun, all a reflection of both their darkly beautiful mother and her ancestry, born of the red dragon king and the previous phoenix, and their blond-haired, pale-blue-eyed white dragon king father.
A cry of agony burst from Serefina’s lips as she forced the crackling energy inside her to manifest into flames spilling over her body, igniting the source of her powers. All around her, the grass burned, tinder to her flames, catching quickly. Her body began to shift—long, glorious feathers bursting from her arms for the first time in her life. A sight Skylar had never wanted to witness. The one time a phoenix ever turned into the bird was when she passed her powers to her daughter, either in death or by choice to willingly give them up.
Serefina seemed to heave a breath into her body, then her voice sounded in Skylar’s mind…all their minds. “I love you all, and I am so proud of you. You are women worthy of our phoenix legacy, but don’t let history control you. Find your own way in this world.”
A colossal roar reverberated across the land. Pytheios, in his true form, lured by the flames, was coming for them.
Kasia, Meira, and Angelika all ducked, covering their ears. Skylar didn’t duck. She crouched, assuming a fighting position, then looked to her mother.
Her face a mask of anguish, Serefina directed her gaze to the youngest of her quadruplets.
Skylar turned her head to look at Angelika, too. Tears streamed down her sister’s face. Her pale blond hair whipped in the wind. “I love you,” Angelika mouthed. Skylar had to close her eyes, torn apart. Torn every which way. When she opened them again, her sister was gone. Sent to another place, a safer place, by her mother’s will alone.
The flames covering her mother’s body ebbed slightly, but she pushed through, focusing next on Meira. More angular and serious, with her bouncy strawberry-blond curls at odds with her personality, she held her body rigidly, dark eyes closed as though unable to watch their mother’s last moments.
Just like Angelika, in a silent instant, Meira was gone, too.
Breath coming in panting bursts Skylar could hear even above the crackling roar of flames, her mother had almost completed the shift, her features turning more delicate and yet sharper. At the same time, her feathers had already taken on a gray hue, turning to ash before Skylar’s eyes.
Serefina shook her head, as if clearing it, then looked up.
At Skylar.
Skylar stared back, trying to will strength into her mother’s body. She knew what came next, but she silently sent her mother a promise. I’ll make sure my sisters never come to harm, and, by the fates, I will destroy Pytheios for doing this to us.
In an instant, Skylar disappeared into that space, the in-between. Every sense shut down, and she was surrounded by pressure and darkness and utter silence.
But only for moments.
With a whoosh of returning sound, her feet suddenly stood not in the brown grassy field but on solid rock. All around her was granite, mighty columns framing what appeared to be a doorway.
A cave. Where had her mother sent her?
“No. It can’t be possible.”
Skylar whirled at the sound of a man’s voice, crouching into a defensive posture once more, her hands up. Ready to fight.