Page 99 of Every Shade of Shadow

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him, staring deep into his eyes.

“Because you don’t have a choice?”

“Because I cannot be without you.”

There’s understanding in his expression. “Come,” he says, seating himself beside me and pulling me close.

“There, there,” he coos, stroking my hair. “We have much to prepare.”

I haven’t forgiven him, he knows that, but I cannot ignore this bond we have no matter how fucked up and twisted it really is—the darkest of revelations.

Because the thing is, I want it.

I’ve always wanted it.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

My heart is running rampant as I face the Professor, his emerald eyes aflame.

"You're ready." His deep, commanding voice sends shivers down my spine.

What happened at dinner is forgotten. I have returned to my usual submissive self, Damien resuming his role as tormentor.

"To explore Shadowcraft? Or something more?" I tease, biting my lip. The tension between us is palpable, like static electricity crackling in the air.

He strides toward me, pinning me against the wall with his tall, imposing frame. I gasp, heat already gathering between my legs. "Both."

His lips crash onto mine, rough and demanding. I moan into the kiss, my hands tangled in his raven hair. He tastes of spice and forbidden desire, his tongue working against mine in the heated oven of my mouth.

He breaks away, trailing kisses along my jaw. "I have a spell to push our exploration further tonight, my pet."

"Tell me," I breathe.

"It will allow us to switch genders."

His words elicit a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. I haven’t heard of anything like this before.

But yet I wonder, what would it be like to inhabit his body, feel the power and virility of a man? But for him to possess mine...

As if sensing my hesitation, he continues, "The choice is yours, naturally."

So I do have some power here.

I stare into his fathomless eyes, seeing my own curiosity and longing reflected within their depths. To experience such forbidden pleasure, in a form not my own...

Fuck it.

"Show me," I whisper.

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Lay on the table.”

I’m already naked, the garnet dress long gone.

My entire body is electric, but I do as he commands. The wooden surface is rough—worn.

He circles the table, gathering ingredients: a crimson candle, a jagged obsidian knife, a vial of silver liquid. Murmuring an incantation, he lights the candle.

None of the trials have had this much ceremony before, but blood is often used as a catalyst for transformation.

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