Page 3 of Wicked Heirs

Their autopsies would give away the fact that somebody preternaturally strong was responsible, it could expose the existence of the supernatural world to humans and—

My thoughts shut off as fingers skimmed up my thighs.

I jolted against the wall as I looked to see the guy with the long hair feeling me up.

The other leaned in and slicked his tongue over the side of my neck.

I shuddered with revulsion.

Panic took me.

Rage and fear alike collided.

And indignation.

Who the hell did these dickheads think they were?

To come after me?

Me!

I couldn’t stop it then.

That familiar pins and needles sensation took me, taking my whole body.

Warmth gathered in my palms.

It was awakening, rising from its long-term slumber.

My body shook with the intensity.

I couldn’t pull it back.

Heat built.

Nerve endings sparked.

I felt the warmth coiling.

Building.

Building.

And then it happened.

Gold fire burst forth from my palms, exploding in a violent furor.

“Ahh!” I screamed at the intensity.

After remaining dormant for so long, it was a hell of a buildup and once it ruptured into being it was a melding of pleasure and pain—kind of like being pleasured right after orgasming with the sweetness of the pleasure tainted by that edge of pain.

I gazed at my flaming magic, the embers dancing on my palm, relishing their long-denied freedom.

The shock of it all meant it took me a while to notice that the guys were no longer on me.

I scanned my surroundings and located them both on their backs at the far end of the alley.

Unmoving.

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