Page 28 of Mated in Flames

“Are you sure?” Luciana asks.

“The quicker you go, the quicker you can see my surprise,” I say with a smile.

She laughs and heads back to the farmhouse. I watch her go until she disappears inside. I feel bad for letting Dane down, even though the issue was easily fixed, but I’ve got a very important afternoon promised to Luciana today.

It’s been just over a month since we met, now. The weeks have slid by, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I felt this happy. When I don’t see or speak to Luciana for a day, I find that I miss her, and that tells me, more than anything, that this is it for me. There will never be another like Luciana in my life, and I don’t want there to be.

That’s why I’ve planned this afternoon, to finally show her a part of myself that I’ve been holding back for some time. I smile as I turn back to the paddock, ready to chase down the pig once more.

* * *

It takes us several hours to clean up and finish the chores. As mid-afternoon hits, Luciana picks up the backpack we’ve packed with a smile. Somehow, along the way, we’ve started associating picnics with dates, and the backpack holds our late lunch today.

“Where are we heading?” she asks as she locks her door.

“I’ll drive us there,” I grin.

It isn’t a long drive, but neither of us wanted to toil several miles when we could easily drive it. Five minutes later, I reach a tall hill that plunges steeply over the other side, overlooking the bushland.

“Up to the top?” Luciana asks as she turns her face up and shields her eyes from the sun.

“All the way up,” I laugh. “It’s good exercise.”

I grab the bag before she can reply and head off, hearing her fall into step behind me seconds later. I’m excited and nervous. I don’t know how she’s going to look at me after this. It’s one thing for her to know that I’m not exactly human, and for her to see small parts of me that prove it. What I’m going to show her today, though, is a massive part of myself.

“So?” Luciana asks as we reach the top and I set the bag down. “Why did we come all the way up here?”

“Actually, I wanted to show you something,” I say, turning to look at her. “I know we’ve spoken a lot, recently, about what it means to be a phoenix. You’ve felt how heated my body is, and I even turned my hand into a talon when we took blood, remember?”

“Yes…” she says slowly, giving me a questioning look.

“There’s more I want to show you,” I reply quietly.

I unbutton my shirt and shrug it off. Dane and I are lucky that we’re able to hide our wings, tucking them away beneath our skin until we need to use them, because it helps us merge among the humans, only our increased temperature giving us away.

But, today, I want to show them. I close my eyes and concentrate, feeling something behind me unfurling carefully, each feather straightening and flaring out. I can’t hear anything from Luciana, and I don’t dare open my eyes as, bit by bit, my wings come into being.

Only when they reach their full span do I hear a little gasp from Luciana, and I open my eyes. She’s staring at my wings in awe, no fright or disgust on her face. I glance to the side. It’s been so long since I’ve seen my own wings, due to how dangerous it is. They gleam in the sunlight, yellows, reds and oranges glittering over them until they look like dancing flames every time I shift.

“Amazing,” Luciana breathes. “They’re beautiful, Warwick. Do you stretch them out often?”

“Not as much as I would like,” I say, relaxing; I’m more pleased than I can say by her reaction. “It’s too dangerous.”

She looks up sharply. “Is it dangerous now?”

“We’ve been at peace for years, Luciana; only those poachers have found us,” I assure her. “If the Supernaturals were going to find us, they would have already done so.”

Dane would say I’m being reckless. But I’m fairly confident, now, in our safety. It’s been so long since we settled down in Mundaring. Nothing is going to happen to us.

“Can I…?” Luciana asks, gesturing to the wings.

“You can touch them,” I say encouragingly.

Luciana steps forward, reaching out to gently brush her fingers down my left wing. The light touch of her fingers makes a shiver down my spine that surprises me. I didn’t know my wings were that sensitive. Or perhaps it’s just her touch that does it.

“They’re soft,” she says quietly, moving her hands further down. “Can they hold you?”

“My bone structure is a little different than yours,” I reply. “And my wings are strong. I can fly with them.”

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