Page 17 of Magic Unmasked

Lilith’s stomach tightened. She had heard of Maeve Duvall—an ancient fae, older than the sisters themselves, and rumored to be the one who had trained them. Fae aged at the same rates as the realm in which they resided. Maeve’s magic was powerful, older than even the fae council, and far more dangerous. She was no mere guardian—she was the foundation of the Duvall family’s power. And from the look in her eyes, she was aware of Lilith’s presence.

For a brief moment, their gazes locked, and Lilith could feel Maeve’s scrutiny, like a cold hand gripping her throat. Then, without a word, the older fae stepped back, disappearing into the shadows of the house.What the proverbial hell?

Lilith stepped back from the gate, her mind racing. She needed to regroup, to think. There were too many moving pieces—Zephyr’s cryptic warnings about the council, Morrigan’s sudden presence in New Orleans, and now Maeve Duvall. What should have been a straightforward mission had become a tangled web of politics, magic, and danger. And Lilith hated feeling like she was playing catch-up.

As she turned to leave, questions swirled in her mind.

What were the Duvall sisters really involved in? What was Zephyr’s role in all of this? And why was Morrigan—normally so secretive—operating out in the open?

Lilith’s frustration boiled over as she stalked back through the Garden District. She was no closer to capturing the Duvall sisters than she had been when she first arrived in New Orleans, and every time she learned something new, it only added to the complexity of the situation. But one thing was certain—she couldn’t let her guard down. Not now with so many eyes watching.

As night fell, Lilith returned to her hotel, her thoughts still racing. She had failed to confront the Duvalls, and the presence of their aunt Maeve had only added more questions to the pile. What were they hiding?

The unknown weighed heavily on her, but Lilith knew one thing for sure: this was no longer just an assignment to capture or kill. It had become a game of survival, and every step forward brought her deeper into a world she barely understood.

But Lilith Silverwing was no stranger to complicated assignments.

And she wasn’t about to let this one slip through her fingers.

The streets of New Orleans were alive with energy, but Lilith barely noticed as she slipped through the narrow alleyways, her senses sharp, her magic simmering just beneath the surface. The atmosphere was thick with tension and danger, a mix of sweat, magic, and the faint metallic tang of blood. She was following a lead—a whisper she had caught earlier that night—about an underground supernatural fight club. At first it didn’t seem like the kind of place one of the Duvall sisters might be, but when she’d heard talk of a plucky and skilled female fighter with spiky blue hair, it had seemed at least plausible. Given she had no other leads, it seemed worthwhile to check it out.

The closer she got, the more the city’s pulse changed, the hum of life, giving way to something darker, more primal. Lilith could feel it like a current running under her skin, a deep vibration of barely contained energy. This place, wherever it was, wasn’t just a haven for criminals—it was a powder keg waiting to explode.

The entrance was hidden in the shadows of an old, crumbling building, a narrow staircase leading down beneath the surface. Lilith descended quietly, her hand resting on the hilt of her blade, every sense on high alert. When she reached the bottom, a thick wooden door stood before her, its surface etched with ancient runes, barely visible in the dim light. She pressed her hand to the door, feeling the pulse of magic woven into the wood, a protective ward meant to keep out the uninvited.

But Lilith wasn’t uninvited. She belonged here—at least for tonight.

The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, immediately hit by the heat of the room. The air was alive with the smell of sweat and blood, and the low hum of magic vibrated against her skin. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from flickering torches set high on the walls, casting long shadows over the crowd of supernatural beings that filled the space. Shifters, vampires, fae, and other creatures crowded around the center of the room, their faces alive with anticipation, eyes gleaming with the promise of money and violence.

At the heart of it all was a makeshift ring encircled by ropes. Inside, two fighters were locked in a brutal match, their fists and magic colliding with bone-crunching force. The crowd roared with every blow, feeding off the violence like it was a drug, their own magic crackling in the air around them. To one side stood some kind of troll, giving odds and collecting bets.

Lilith moved through the crowd, keeping to the shadows, her eyes scanning the faces around her. She wasn’t here for thefights, although the atmosphere buzzed with a dangerous allure. She was here because of a tip—Morrigan had been seen here, using her illusion magic to cheat patrons and fighters out of their winnings. If Morrigan was involved, that meant she was up to something, and Lilith needed to find out what.

She and Morrigan had always been bitter rivals. At first Lilith had chalked up her presence as Oberon trying to rachet up the pressure by playing them one against the other. But while it seemed like the kind of thing that might amuse him, in terms of council business, it didn’t seem to make sense, which brought her back to why was Morrigan here? Maybe that was the more pressing problem.

As she edged closer to the ring, her eyes caught a flicker of movement at the far side of the room. There, half-hidden in the shadows, stood Morrigan, her dark hair gleaming under the faint torchlight, her sharp eyes watching the fight with cold amusement.

Lilith’s breath caught, her hand instinctively moving toward her blade.There you are.Morrigan was weaving her magic subtly, her fingers barely moving as she cast her illusions, making it look like one fighter was landing blows that weren’t there, shifting reality just enough to tip the odds in her favor. The crowd, caught up in the spectacle, had no idea they were being conned.

Lilith’s blood boiled. She was about to step forward to confront Morrigan when a voice rang out over the noise of the crowd.

“Next challenger!”

The shout echoed through the room, drawing the attention of everyone nearby, including Morrigan, who turned slightly, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd for the next participant. Lilith hesitated, her heart thudding in her chest as she weighed her options. If she moved now, she could confront Morrigan—but infront of this crowd, it could turn from a spectacle into a deadly disaster.

Before Lilith could make her decision, a masked figure stepped into the ring. Tall, broad-shouldered, his movements fluid and controlled. His entire body was cloaked in shadows, save for his eyes—golden, piercing, and all too familiar.

Ronan.

Lilith’s heart skipped a beat as she realized who he was, her muscles tensing instinctively. Of all the places for him to show up, it had to be here.What the hell was he doing here?She had come here to track Savannah and then Morrigan to get answers, and now Ronan was about to complicate things.

As if sensing her frustration, the fight’s announcer pointed in her direction. “You,” he barked, his voice booming across the room. “You’re next.”

The crowd parted around her, eyes turning to Lilith, their gazes expectant. There was no easy way to extricate herself from this. She was pretty sure Morrigan was somehow manipulating the situation. A thrill of anticipation swept through the room, and Lilith felt the tension in the air spike as the crowd murmured in excitement. Perhaps, if she could best him, she could force him to stay out of fae business. Probably not, but it might be worth trying, even if only to burn off some of the stress she was experiencing.

She stepped forward, her boots barely making a sound as she crossed the floor and climbed into the ring. The moment her feet hit the ground inside the ropes, the world narrowed. It was just her and Ronan now, locked in a space that buzzed with magic and tension. The crowd roared, their voices blending into a dull hum as her focus sharpened.

Ronan’s eyes met hers from behind his mask, the same golden intensity she had seen countless times before, but now, there was something more. An edge, a challenge. She could feelthe pull between them, a dangerous attraction that simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

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