Page 22 of Magic Unmasked

“…we can’t face him head-on,” Catalina said, her sharp gaze cutting across the room. “Oberon’s magic is too powerful. We’ll need to disrupt his network first, hit him where he’s weakest—his supporters.”

Lilith nodded absently, her mind still running through the events of the past few hours. Her loyalty to the Fae High Council had been stretched thin before, but now it was crumbling entirely. Oberon had made it clear that he wasn’t just after the Duvalls; he had his sights set on something much larger. She could feel the threads of a larger conspiracy weaving around her, pulling her into a web of deceit and danger that went far beyond the job to which she’d been assigned.

And then, there was Ronan. His golden eyes tracked her every move, his presence like a fire burning too close to her skin. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze never leaving hers—his stare made her heart race and her body betray her in ways she hated to admit.

She couldn’t afford this. She couldn’t afford him. But the more she fought it, the stronger the pull between them became, drawing them closer with every breath.

Before she could dwell on it further, the air around them shifted.

A sudden jolt of magic surged through the room, a sharp, electric crackle that set every hair on Lilith’s body standing on end. The sisters felt it too—Phoenix’s eyes widened in alarm, Savannah gasped, and Geneva’s hand flew to the ancient wards encircling the walls.

“Shit! We’re under attack,” snarled Phoenix as the mansion’s defenses shook violently and then crumbled.

“What the fuck?” snarled Savannah. “We have got to put more oomph into our wards.”

Maeve nodded. “This is the second time they haven’t held.”

The wards shattered like glass, sending sparks flying through the room as an ear-splitting screech filled the air. Acrid smoke billowed into the mansion, thick and suffocating, obscuring their vision as dark shapes slithered through the broken defenses. The sound of magic crackling and fire igniting filled the air, and Lilith’s instincts kicked into high gear.

Without hesitation, Lilith drew her blade, her magic flaring to life as she positioned herself in front of the sisters, her senses on high alert. Out of the haze, figures emerged—dark, shadowy creatures summoned by ancient, corrupted magic. Their forms twisted and contorted as they advanced, claws slashing through the air, eyes gleaming with malice.

Lilith spun, her blade slicing cleanly through one of the creatures, the steel glowing with a faint blue light as it cut through the smoky form. But more came, too many to count. She unleashed her magic in a wave, sending a bolt of energy crashing into the advancing horde, but the creatures absorbed the blast, their bodies reforming within seconds.

“We need to regroup,” Phoenix barked, her own magic flaring as she sent a torrent of flames spiraling through the room, catching several of the creatures in a burning inferno.

But the attack was relentless.

Lilith felt a surge of heat at her side and turned just in time to see Ronan shift into his sabretooth form, his massive body launching forward with a primal roar. He tore through the creatures with savage efficiency, his claws slashing through them as if they were nothing but smoke. His movements were quick, brutal, but controlled, and Lilith couldn’t help but feel the strange sense of synchronization between them.

As if they had been fighting side by side for years.

Lilith slashed at another creature, her blade glowing as she sent a pulse of magic into its chest. It dissipated into a cloud of smoke, and she turned just in time to see Ronan takedown another attacker, their movements mirroring each other in perfect rhythm. Every step, every strike, every shift in their bodies was in sync, as though their magic—and their instincts—were connected on a deeper level. She had never fought like this with anyone, and she hated how natural it felt.

Another wave of creatures surged forward. Lilith and Ronan moved in tandem, their bodies dancing through the smoke, blades and claws cutting through the chaos. She could feel the pulse of his power beside her, wild and untamed, yet it fit perfectly with her own. It was like they were two parts of a whole, their magic feeding off each other, strengthening with every attack.

By the time the last creature fell, disintegrating into a cloud of ash, the room was silent, save for the crackling of dying flames. The caustic smell of smoke and magic hung heavy in the air, but the attack was over.

For now.

Lilith stood still, her chest heaving, sweat glistening on her skin. Her blade was still drawn, the faint blue glow fading as she lowered it, but her eyes were locked on Ronan. He stood a few feet away, his chest rising and falling with the same heavy breath, his golden eyes gleaming in the aftermath.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, the space between them crackling with the unresolved tension that had only grown stronger during the fight. They had worked together seamlessly, as if they had been doing this for years, but the air was still thick with the danger of something far more powerful between them.

Lilith’s pulse raced as Ronan stepped forward, his hand reaching out to brush a lock of her hair back from her face. His fingers were gentle, but the touch sent a bolt of heat through her, her body responding to him in ways she didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You’re hurt,” he said softly, his voice low and rough, his golden eyes scanning her face.

“And you’re naked,” she said and corrected that with a flick of her wrist. After all, there were a bunch of other female fae around, and they didn’t need to be looking at him.

She was fine. The cuts and bruises she had sustained were nothing. But it wasn’t the wounds on her body that left her feeling vulnerable. It was the way Ronan looked at her, the way his presence wrapped around her like a vice, tightening with every second.

She met his gaze, her breath hitching as he stepped closer, his body mere inches from hers now. His hand slid to her waist, the heat of his palm searing through the thin fabric of her shirt, and for a moment, Lilith forgot how to breathe. Every muscle in her body tensed, but not with fear—with desire. The pull between them was stronger now, undeniable, and she was done fighting it.

Lilith closed her eyes, her breath shaky as Ronan leaned in, his lips brushing against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. The barriers between them crumbled, all the walls she had built up over the centuries falling away in the face of this undeniable connection.

“Damn you,” she whispered, but there was no venom in her voice.

Ronan’s lips curved into a wry smile, his breath warm against her skin. “I thought you liked a challenge.”

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