Page 23 of The Rowan
“I’d have liked it better if it had been real,” I snarl, my cock aching to fuck her, and my grin broadens. She’s not so innocent after all.
“How is a warlock different from a witch?” she asks, ignoring my statement.
“Witch magic comes from your soul, regardless of whether the witch is light or dark. I chose to shun my witch half and twisted my magic until it found another source. The source of warlock magic is primal,” I cautiously explain. Witches loathe warlocks and the sources of their power. “Being part incubus, mine comes from sex and pain. Sometimes, I even use blood magic, although it’s the most dangerous one.”
“Can anyone use those sources?” she questions.
I hesitate, wondering why she would ask, before nodding. “Any person of power can use blood magic. But it changes them, introducing darkness and shadows into their magic where none existed. Blood is power. When you use blood magic, you sacrifice a bit of your power with the blood. Why are you asking?”
“I want you to teach me how to use blood magic,” she drawls, as if she isn’t asking me to introduce her to the shadows.
“Out of the question,” a voice rings out behind me as Theron steps into the light. “Teach her everything else, but not blood magic.”
“It’s not your call, Theron,” she furiously states.
Theron, hmm. Not Lord Theron? When did these two get so cozy?I sigh, telling my incubus to shut up.
“There’s not much else I can teach her beyond her current knowledge,” I counter. “She probably knows more witch magic than I ever learned. The only advantage I can give her is my knowledge of dark magic, which includes using blood. If you want her to outmatch the witches, she needs more than witch magic.”
Frost lightly coats the walls while Theron paces.
He stops. “Fine, Fallon and I will watch. If she becomes consumed by the blood, Fallon will pull her out immediately and infuse her with light. You will not interfere. Do you understand me? I’m not joking, Astor,” he demands, his face fierce.
“Yes, I won’t interfere,” I reply dryly, my heart pounding at the thought of sharing dark magic with someone of her power. My cock hardens further. Blood magic is intimate and dangerous. The more power you have, the greedier it becomes.
14
ARDEN
Iglance at the frost climbing the walls and get a teensy bit worried. Theron is even calling in Fallon as…backup? I’m not exactly sure what he can do, because I haven’t met him yet. In our investigation, the report stated Fallon’s affinity for light is incredibly strong. Although he’s a hybrid with an equal amount of light and dark in him, he shuns the dark.
Expecting a blond and ethereal elf, I’m astounded when a tall, dark-haired warrior strides confidently into the room, bright green eyes scanning his environment, before coming to rest on me. “Hello, I’m Prince Fallon. You must be Arden?” He holds out his hand in greeting.
“Hello,” I reply, clasping his hand. Instantly, I gasp. It’s as if I’m holding on to a live ley line. Magic and heat, snapping and crackling between us, flares wildly, then settles to a simmer. Warmth and light bathe my heart and soul, as if they’ve met their match. His eyes widen, and he eases his hand from mine.
I flush with embarrassment and take a deep breath. I’m not exactly sure what the hell just happened, but I’m going to ignore it for now. Taking a deep breath, I turn towards Astor, whose raised eyebrows tell me I didn’t imagine my reaction to Fallon.
Shrugging, I square my shoulders. “Okay, my favorite dark warlock, teach me.”
Astor glances at Theron and Fallon now whispering in the corner. “I’ve set up the tools on the table here.” He motions to the black bowl, silver knife, quill, and paper waiting for me. “It’s absolutely necessary you have a clear mind. If you’re not focused, the source can take control and pull more power from you than you want to give. Take a seat. I want you to clear your mind and focus on what you want from the magic.” Astor’s chocolate brown eyes are fierce as he instructs me. “It’s imperative your request is precise and not open to interpretation. The longer the source keeps you in the dark, the more power it drains from you. Okay?”
I murmur my agreement and close my eyes. After several deep breaths, I find my center and allow myself to drop into a relaxed, semi-aware state. Once I’m focused, I open my eyes and nod at Astor.
He picks up my hand, holds it over the bowl, and draws the knife across it. Blood wells up, and he tips my hand over to let it slide into the bowl. Picking up the quill, he hands it to me.
My blood stains the quill and paper as I tilt my hand to write.
Show me my assassins.
Immense power invades my mind and blood. Images flash by too quickly to hold on to, and my head swirls. Nausea rises, but I grit my teeth and force it down. With awhoosh, I’m sucked backwards, falling into the dark, until suddenly, I’m standing in a massive cave.
Easily the size of The Abbey, the entire cave is lit up by sconces placed every few feet, fire burning in them. I turn in a circle, noting key details. I’m standing on a raised platform in a ceremonial chamber or something. A large tapestry hangs from floor to ceiling on the farthest cave wall, and I stop turning to study it.
The tapestry is adorned with a coat of arms depicting a black dragon holding a shield with four quadrants, each one displaying a picture. Fire, ice, shadow, and a crown. A motto arcs above the scene,Courage Sans Peur.Courage without fear. I don’t recognize the coat of arms, but I’m guessing it’s Valerian’s. So this must mean I’m in the Kingdom of Dragons.
The air is cool, and I shiver.
Why would my assassins be dragons?My brow wrinkles when I think about what I wrote with the quill.
