Page 14 of Every Shade of Shadow

I meet Sabrina’s eyes, barely daring to hope. "Maybe I should call. You know, for curiosity."

She takes my hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. Love and fear war in her expression, but after a long moment, she says, “Fuck no. Did I mention Shadowcraft?”

Shadowcraft. Here we go again. Gran only hinted at it, always yapping on about how it was too dangerous and seductive to explore. I have no doubt the missing pages in her grimoire pertained to it.

The thrill intensifies, settling low in my belly. I want to give into it, so what’s holding me back?

Have I been given an invitation or a temptation? Perhaps Lumina Academy will provide both.

But Sabrina, bless her socks, cannot know.

I take the card. “Yeah, you’re right. Totally.”

I remember the Wolf’s eyes boring into mine, the firmness of his grip on my arm, his breath hot against my ear.

I shudder, desire pooling low between my thighs. Last night he managed to pull off in seconds what my wannabe lovers have failed to do in years: fire that urge to have someone right then and there. And he barely touched me.

Who is he? How did he know?

I imagine his hands on my body, pushing me to the edge of control and beyond. My pussy pulses at the thought.

The risks are real. But so is the possibility of release. Of escape.

Of something I've only dreamed about.

Sabrina stands. “Anyhoo, I’ll grab the Dior and be off. Don’t want the label to find out it’s missing.”

“No,” I smile, “of course not, and thanks again, for letting me borrow it, or your friend—whatever.”

She pulls me in for a hug. “Anytime, superstar.”

I say goodbye and watch her from my window heading back down to her car, which is double-parked, of course. To even have a car in New York is insane.

An eerie silence fills the space. I reach down to the small table beside the armchair and pick up the card.

I know what Sab said, and she’s one-hundred percent right, but I can’t help it.

I reach for my phone, take a deep breath, and dial. Calling this number isn’t a choice. It’s the key to dodging the life of a hobo and whatever hell follows.

The line rings only once.

“You called.”

That voice…so smoky and sensual.

I clench my thighs hard, straining to keep the desire caged there and not spiraling through the rest of my body.

"I shouldn't have," I say. "This was a mistake."

"Was it?" A rustle of fabric. Is he…undressing?

I swallow hard. "I don't even know who you are, what this is all about."

"You know exactly who I am," he purrs. "Someone who is going to give you everything you crave, and more."

My cheeks flush. How does he know what I crave? It’s not like it’s scrawled all over my face.

You sure? I question.

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