Home > The Monster Ball Year 2 : (A Paranormal Romance Anthology)(8)

The Monster Ball Year 2 : (A Paranormal Romance Anthology)(8)
Author: Randi Cooley Wilson

“It doesn’t matter. The stigma that comes with carrying blood magic makes us monsters, even within our own community. Which is why I don’t tell anyone I can wield it.”

He leans down, whispering in my ear while he moves us slowly. “That’s why the hard exterior?” he mutters, more to himself than to me. “You push people away, and you give off this bitchy attitude so they don’t get close and sense the darkness in you? Sense the dark magic?”

“Unlike you,” I sigh. “Who embraces it and wears it proudly like a badge of honor.”

“You alter fates using it,” he points out. “Stop being a hypocrite.”

At his words, reality kicks back in, and I try to step away from him, but he doesn’t let me.

What the hell am I allowing to happen? I never talk about this.

My guard is down. And I don’t fucking like it.

I push away a bit. “At least I use my magic for good.”

He pulls me toward him even more. “Are you saying I don’t?”

“You sell eternal magic on the black market for profit,” I accuse.

His jaw tightens as he watches me. “I guess that is how you would see it.”

“Is there another way for me to see it? If so, please, enlighten me.”

“Yes, Kat,” he growls. “There’s another way.”

“Which is?”

“You can save a dying mage or wizard with eternal magic instead of blood magic.”

“Fucking A,” I sigh.

“It can bring the mage or wizard back to life. Without the darkness,” he snarls. “Yet, the magic council rules who is worthy, or unworthy, of receiving it versus dark magic.”

I know this. The priestess who saved my life told me as much. The council chose not to use it on me because I was being punished for mistreating my gifts. A lesson so that I could teach others. And yet, if everyone in our community knew about eternal magic, there wouldn’t be enough to go around. There would be nothing holding them back from using up all of their power.

“Mages and wizards already squander what little they are born with. Imagine if they knew there were unlimited supplies available to them, at their fingertips? That is why it’s protected.”

“At their discretion,” he argues.

The slower music transitions into something even more dark and seductive.

“Tell me why you sell it,” I demand.

“You.”

“What?”

“You’re the reason I sell it on the black market,” he says so quietly I barely hear him. “So that mages and wizards aren’t punished incorrectly. So they don’t suffer from the darkness.”

My breath hitches.

He’s trying to save others from our fate.

From suffering the way we do with the darkness inside our veins.

“And you are why we guard it,” I counter. “You don’t have the right to change fates.”

He stops us from moving, looking into my eyes with a hard edge to his expression.

“And you do?”

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

A Sinful Moment

Dragneel


Silence falls between us. Even the seductive song the band is playing has somehow managed to fade away. I stare down into Katya’s dark gaze and guide her in my arms. She gives me a look that’s half confused, half hate-filled, and I find it endearing. It makes me lose my breath for a second.

In a different world, she and I would probably be something amazing.

But that isn’t this world.

And in this world, we both want to bring life back to the dead.

Just in different ways.

“You’re right,” she concedes.

I hold my breath.

“I hate that I have so much weakness and darkness in my soul, my blood,” she admits.

“Everyone has darkness in them. Some are just better at wielding it than others.”

“Like you?” A small smile graces her lips, and my heart stops at the sight.

“Like me.”

“I admire that you want to save others using eternal magic, Dragneel. I do. I wish to fuck that someone had saved me with it. But the reality is they didn’t. I owe the priestess who saved me a great deal. I gave her my word that I would protect the dagger. I can’t go back on my word.”

I nod. I know how important it is for mages to keep their word.

I respect it.

That doesn’t mean I won’t get her to bend to my will.

“Her blood stains your soul,” I whisper. “That doesn’t mean she owns it.”

Katya’s grip on me tightens as she searches my gaze. “It’s complicated.”

I’m used to harsh realities.

To darkness.

Concepts I live with, daily.

My hands release her waist and slide up the sides of her body to her arms. They run along each of the delicate limbs before I cling to her wrists, my thumbs caressing the soft skin beneath my fingertips. Katya relaxes under my touch, and I grip her a little tighter.

When she closes her eyes and presses closer, I inhale.

For the first time in years, I want to be the guy who steals the light, the good, and keeps it.

Just for once.

Then, maybe I’d have some peace.

I pull her closer to my chest and inhale the air around her hair. She smells sweet like plums and wine. Releasing one of her wrists, I wrap her hair around my hand, exposing her collarbone.

Gently, I press my lips against the warmth of her skin and over the steady beat of her pulse. The even beat makes me feel like I can breathe without the darkness. I know it will only last for so long before it creeps back in, demanding to retake control. But I like this feeling.

Without thinking, I lift my head and slam my mouth against hers.

Katya clings to me, her fingers pressing into the back of my neck as she slowly parts her lips. I take advantage of the opening and push my tongue into her mouth. My reaction to her kiss is violent as she kisses me with an unnerving gentleness. Her tongue is smooth against mine, subtle as she takes her time exploring my mouth. I moan when she digs her fingers into my hair and grabs ahold of it. This woman tastes like the best mistake of my fucking life.

This kiss is endless.

Nothing will compare.

I ravage her like I’m trying to destroy her.

And who knows... maybe I am.

The taste of her fills my mouth, and I walk her backward. The moment the wall hits the back of her body, I press her into it. When our lips finally slip away from each other, both of our breathing is labored. My lungs are on fire, and I can’t seem to stay away from her. I want more.

Every time we touch, it’s intense and blazing.

Like someone lit a match and poured gasoline on it.

And every time, I give in, unable to help myself.

I look down into her smoldering eyes, which are locked onto mine. I recognize something in them, in the way she kisses me as if she’s afraid it will be the last time. At the thought, my heart flutters, so I grab her face in my hands and lay a kiss on her that steals both our breaths again.

With a faint whimper, she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me to her. I use my body to pin her against the wall and kiss her with deep desperation. This kiss doesn’t feel like our other kisses; this is full of want. And need. And everything in between. Whatever that is.

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