Page 18 of Magic Unmasked

They circled each other, the tension thick in the air, neither of them making the first move. The crowd grew louder, their excitement feeding off the electricity that crackled between Lilith and Ronan.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Ronan said, his voice low, teasing, as they continued to circle.

Lilith’s lips twisted into a smirk, her heart pounding in her chest. “You always did have a way of showing up at the worst times.”

Ronan’s grin was hidden beneath his mask, but she could hear it in his voice. “I could say the same about you.”

And then, without warning, he struck.

Ronan moved with the speed and power of a predator, his fist flying toward her with lethal precision. Lilith dodged, her body twisting out of the way as she countered with a quick jab of her own, aiming for his side. He blocked it easily, their movements smooth and fluid, like a dance they had practiced a thousand times before.

Every blow, every dodge was charged with the electricity of their growing attraction. Lilith could feel the heat radiating from Ronan’s body, the smell of earth and wildness that clung to him, the way his muscles flexed with every strike. Her own heart raced, adrenaline flooding her system as she fought to stay focused, to keep her duty at the forefront of her mind.

But it was impossible. The chemistry between them was like a live wire, sparking with every touch, every glance. Each blow that landed felt more like a caress. Their fight became a dance of tension, the line between combat and something far more primal blurring with every move.

Lilith landed a solid hit to Ronan’s ribs, but he barely flinched, his golden eyes gleaming with challenge. He caught herwrist in his hand, pulling her close, and for a brief, breathless moment, their faces were inches apart, the air between them crackling with unsaid words and unresolved tension.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Ronan growled, his voice rough with frustration and something else—something deeper.

Lilith’s pulse quickened, her breath hitching. “Well, you’ve found me,” she shot back, trying to ignore the pull between them.

Before either of them could act, the door to the underground club slammed open, and the room erupted into chaos.

A raid. Shit!

Detective Thibodeaux stormed into the room, his badge flashing as officers poured in behind him, their voices shouting over the noise. “Everyone down! This is a police raid!”

The crowd scattered, panic spreading like wildfire as supernatural creatures scrambled to escape. Magic flared in the air, weapons were drawn, and the club became a battleground of humans and supernaturals.

Lilith’s mind raced, torn between her duty and the chaos unfolding around her. If she stayed, she could capture Morrigan, but revealing herself to the authorities would expose the supernatural world she was sworn to protect. And what would she do with Morrigan? Drag her back to the fae realm? And then what? It was highly unlikely that Morrigan was here without orders of her own to follow.

Ronan’s hand was still on her wrist, his eyes locked on hers, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Lilith, we need to move.”

She hesitated, her heart pounding as she looked at Morrigan, then at the cops swarming the room. She could feel the importance of her choice pressing down on her, the line between duty and instinct blurring.

But in the end, she knew she couldn’t risk it—not yet.

With a final glance at Morrigan, Lilith turned and followed Ronan, disappearing into the shadows before the police could see them, her mind already racing with the consequences of what had just unfolded.

Chapter

Eight

RONAN

Lilith's breath came in shallow gasps as she and Ronan burst through the back exit of the underground club, leaving the chaos of the raid behind them. The humid night air hit her like a wall, the thick, sticky heat of the Louisiana evening clinging to her skin as Ronan pulled her away from the fight club and into the twisted maze of the city’s back alleys. She could still hear the distant shouts of the police inside, the thud of boots on the ground as the humans tried to contain the supernatural madness they barely understood.

Ronan hadn’t let go of her wrist since they’d fled. His grip was firm and unyielding, as though he feared she would disappear again. And maybe she would have—if she could ignore the electricity coursing between them, the heat that simmered just beneath the surface.

“Let go,” Lilith hissed, trying to pull free from his hold, her violet eyes flashing with frustration and something else—something far more dangerous.

But Ronan didn’t let go.

Instead, he yanked her closer, his golden eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire. “No,” he growled, his voice rough, primal. “I’m done with you slipping away.”

Lilith opened her mouth to protest, to push him away, but the words died on her lips when Ronan slammed her back against the rough brick wall of a nearby building. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, and before she could recover, Ronan’s mouth was on hers—brutal, demanding, full of arousal and a need that ignited something corresponding deep inside her.

It wasn’t a kiss of tenderness or affection. It was a claim, a battle of wills, every bit as intense as the fight they’d just had in the ring. His lips moved against hers with fierce hunger, his body pressing against her, pinning her to the wall. She felt the hard planes of his chest, the throbbing length behind his fly, the heat of his skin, and every nerve in her body lit up in response.

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