Page 17 of Magic Unleashed

“We make a good team, Phoenix. You and I.”

She smiled, her heart swelling with warmth and happiness. “I’ll give you that we’re a very good team.”

Their lips met in a deep and passionate kiss, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths, their bodies still hungry for more. The night wasn’t over, not yet, and suddenly, she wanted a whole lot more than one night with her dragon lover. She wanted the rest of forever with him, but that would have to wait. They had a demonic cult to fight and a city to save.

Chapter

Seven

GRIFF

Griff woke to an empty bed. The warm weight of Phoenix, the scent of her skin, and the intoxicating closeness that had marked the night were gone. Only the faint impression of her on the sheets remained, and even that was quickly cooling.

He sat up slowly, his body still heavy with exhaustion but his mind racing with the reality of her absence. He wasn't surprised she had left. After all, Phoenix was as unpredictable and elusive as the wind. But that didn't stop the disappointment from curling in his gut like a tightening knot.

She had been in his arms, in his bed, and yet, here he was alone again.

Griff rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the tangled emotions swirling within him. Last night had been more than just spectacular sex. Hell, the word 'spectacular' didn't even begin to cover it. The connection between them had been undeniable, as fiery and wild as he'd imagined it would be, but deeper too.

But Phoenix? His fated fae mate? He knew her too well to expect her to stick around because of one night, no matter how passionate it had been. Phoenix was a force of nature, and noamount of claiming her, no intensity between them, would make her submit to the bond unless she wanted it.

With a resigned sigh, Griff stood up and pulled on his jeans, heading to the kitchen where the smell of leftover coffee from the pot offered some small consolation. He had a feeling this wasn't the last time they'd end up like this—entangled and then apart. And for now, he would have to live with it.

The sun was barely cresting over the horizon when Griff left the house, riding his Harley through the quiet streets of Algiers Point, across the ferry, and back into the heart of New Orleans. He couldn't shake the lingering ache in his chest as he weaved through the traffic, his thoughts consumed by the night before and the storm of emotions Phoenix had stirred inside him.

Soon enough, he found himself pulling up to the Duvall mansion, a towering, opulent structure that stood like a sentinel amidst the old oaks and iron gates of the Garden District. It was a beautiful home, its fae magic invisible to humans, but to supernaturals, it seeped from the very walls, casting a soft glow over the property. To Griff, it was nothing more than a fortress Phoenix, her sisters, and her aunt used to keep the world at arm's length, including him.

As he approached the door, he could already feel the tension in the air. Phoenix wasn't going to make this easy, but then again, neither was he. They needed to talk. They needed to decide how to handle Fontaine, the cult, and the chaos that was brewing in the city.

The door opened before Griff could knock, and Phoenix's youngest sister, Savannah, greeted him with a raised eyebrow and a knowing, infectious grin.

"Well, if it isn't Detective Broussard, bright and early. Are you doing the walk of shame as well? Come to sweep my sister off her feet again, or just drag her back to bed?"

Griff scowled, brushing past her without a word. He wasn't in the mood for Savannah's teasing, not when his mind was spinning with everything that needed to be done.

"Where's Phoenix?" he asked, his voice low and gruff as he entered the front hall.

Savannah sighed dramatically. "Upstairs, brooding, as usual. You two really are made for each other, you know that?"

Griff didn't respond; instead, he headed straight for the stairs. He took them two at a time, his boots echoing off the polished wood as he made his way to the second floor where Phoenix's room was. He could feel her presence even before he reached the door, the faint pulse of her magic brushing against his senses like a whisper.

He pushed the door open without knocking and found Phoenix standing by the window, her back to him, arms crossed. The sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, casting her in a golden glow that made her seem even more untouchable than usual.

"You didn’t even say goodbye?" Griff growled; his voice thick with frustration as he closed the door behind him. "After everything that happened last night, you just disappear?"

Phoenix didn't turn to face him, but he saw the slight tension in her shoulders. "Griff, last night was..." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "It was what it was. But we both know it doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't change anything?" Griff's temper flared, and before he could think better of it, he crossed the room in quick strides, grabbing her by the arm and turning her to face him. "It changes everything, Phoenix."

She met his gaze, her eyes a storm of emotions. "No, it doesn't. You can't just?—"

Whatever protest she had died on her lips as Griff moved faster than she could anticipate, tossing her over his shoulderwith ease, his arm wrapped firmly around her dangling legs. Phoenix let out an indignant cry, her fists pounding against his back.

"Griff! Put me down, you bastard!"

Ignoring her protests, Griff carried her out of the room and down the hallway, the echo of his footsteps loud in the otherwise silent mansion. Her sisters and Aunt Maeve were already standing in the foyer, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes full of mirth—okay, her aunt was pissed, but her sisters seemed delighted.

Geneva chuckled. "Well, this just got interesting."

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