Chapter 7 #2
My breath caught as I saw Lazriel there engaging with a sorcerer whose hand was glowing with his auburn magic—the same color as his spiky hair—while Lazriel’s eyes were narrowed with what appeared to be barely-checked fury, as he somehow eclipsed even the strength of a magic-wielder and pushed against the guy, overpowering him.
God, he was a true force. So much raw power. So much raw passion. Even when it came through as anger, it was really passion at its root. He cared so deeply about so much. And with the way he carried that, people often didn’t see that truth beneath the rest.
The intensity coming off him right now clashed with the change in his appearance.
He wasn’t wearing his tactical gear. Instead, he’d opted for a softer, more toned-down and relaxed look.
Kind of calming and casual—although that wasn’t coming through with the whole arm-wrestling thing that seemed to be far more than just a fun challenge to him.
He was wearing a forest-green hoodie open and over a blank tank that clung to the cut of his chiseled chest. His cargo pants were gray and utilitarian, not militant like those tactical pants of his.
“The wolf hybrid seems to be working out some frustrations.”
I blinked at the sound of Sylas’ voice, and he had me looking away from the arm-wrestling scene, and turning to him, as we still held the shimmering cloaking spell over us.
We were unnoticed, protected and concealed all the while the spell remained.
And while I’d needed that to get through the door and step through into The Fade space, now that we were here, now that I saw there wasn’t a specific crowded area and that everyone was spread out and doing their own thing, already immersed, I didn’t need it.
“Thank you for this,” I told him. “But I’m good now.”
“Happy to help.”
He went to pull his hand from mine and end the spell, but I held fast.
As his gaze snapped to mine in surprise, I said, “Why did you really help me? Flirtation aside. Pity aside. The truth.”
“There was no pity. I don’t like seeing others discounting themselves or uncomfortable in their own skin.
And what I said earlier about you was true for me.
But you’re right, there was more to it than that.
” He shifted his weight. “Your power affected me that day when you were losing control in the Grand Atrium.”
“I remember, yeah.”
“It amplified my magic. Boosted it.”
I arched an eyebrow. “So you did this with me just now to—what—get another boost?”
“No. I wanted to understand your impact on me and where it was rooted. Your abilities are many, so the specific source isn’t obvious to discern.”
“Why would you need to understand it? Are you afraid of my power?”
“Not at all.”
“Why would somebody like you even care about something amplifying your magic or studying that with—oh! There’s something wrong with your power? You’re… damaged?”
He struggled for a moment, but then actually admitted, “Yes.”
He eased his hand free, the spell breaking, the cloaking veil flitting away.
Before I could get another word out or further this intriguing—and worrying—conversation, the energy in the place shifted, people calling out to Sylas, everyone starting to notice us now the spell was down.
The ground rumbled beneath our feet and we both looked to see Lazriel storming across the distance toward us, his irate glare fixed on Sylas.
“Seriously?” Lazriel bit at him as he reached us. “Do you want to be marked by me? Is that it, necromancer?”
Sylas barely reacted, seeming to be studying him instead.
I laid my hand on Lazriel’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
He trembled at my touch, then sucked in a stilted breath, before actually stepping back from Sylas and coming to me instead. “Nothing. It’s just him antagonizing me. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t seem fine.” I eyed Sylas. “Stop, all right? Do you hear me?”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Indeed I do.” He gave a bow that was somehow both charming and sarcastic. “As you wish.”
And then he took off deeper into The Fade, gravitating over toward the crimson pool where people were calling out for him to join them.
I took Lazriel’s hands, drawing his gaze to mine as he started to glare after Sylas, seething.
“I’m here with you. I came here to hang out with you. Okay?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “I know. He’s just been… a real fucking shithead.”
“Why?”
He shoved a hand through his hair, mussing up the green parts. “I just… do you mind if we don’t get into all that? I don’t want it to ruin our night.” He gritted his teeth. “Seeing his fucking face here just threw me off—and seeing him with you. All that charming, manipulative bullshit.”
“Do you want to leave?”
He took a beat.
“No.” He gave my hands a squeeze. “It’s a big deal that you came here tonight.
” His gaze raked over me in my dress, flicking down to my thigh-high boots.
“And you look incredible.” Humor sparked in his eyes with a flicker of dirty, pushing through all the rest previously dragging him down.
“Good enough to eat.” He bared his fangs briefly and wiggled his eyebrows.
A thrill went through me, but it collided with worry. “You know that you can’t, right? Can’t feed from me? My blood would be toxic to you.”
“Yeah. Already noted.” He shifted his weight. “I’m just fucking about. I don’t actually feed from anyone. Just blood bags to stay alive and take the edge off.”
What? “Never?”
He eased his hands from mine. “Nah, I don’t like it.”
He meant he didn’t like that aspect of himself.
And it was worrying because it was a fundamental part of his makeup.
He was so free in some ways, but there was also this that I hadn’t realized the extent of before. I mean, I’d heard his comments about being more wolf than vampire, knowing he wanted people to see the wolf as prominent, but this was something else, much deeper repression at work.
And I knew a thing or two about that.
He knew that about me. It was all over me. Hell, it was clear as day to anyone who got even a little bit close to me.
So, that was one of the reasons he was drawn to me.
I smiled. Right there with him on that.
“Come on,” I said, taking his arm. “Why don’t you show me around this place?”
His eyes brightened. “Actually, there’s a particular spot here that I want to show you.”
“Sounds perfect.”
He chuckled and I leaned against him, holding his arm, his hand clasping me in return, as we made our way through The Fade.
I felt the tension leave him bit by bit as we walked through the magical space, his fingers stroking mine and warming me down to the bone.
I noticed that he was keeping to the periphery of the space, knowing how I was with crowds. It was unbelievably endearing. He didn’t even call attention to it, or make a big deal, he just did it for me.
He led us down a corridor lined with ivy and hanging crystals, past a glowing curtain that shimmered like pearls. We passed through a narrow arch formed by two twisted trees, and then we emerged in another space.
A hidden hollow.
The ground had shifted beneath our feet to something softer—mossy and deep lilac, threaded with glowing roots. Above, the stars were gentler and warmer.
In the center was a blanket of stitched leather and deep velvet, all purple. On it were two crystal goblets resting on a curved stone tray. Different music played magically—a heated, sensual beat that actually had me wanting to move to it, to get lost in it.
I looked to see Lazriel eyeing me curiously. “Will this do?”
Was he kidding? “You did all of this?”
“I mean, yeah. It was my concept and I got some help from a Dark Fae who owes me a favor to conjure the surroundings in amongst the rest of The Fade.” He gestured at the blanket area. “But this here was all me.”
“It’s amazing. I love it.”
“Would you say it’s…”
“Perfect? Yes. Hell, yes. Perfect!”
He chuckled and looked so happy.
I stepped toward the blanket, looking all around, wanting to catalogue every thoughtful detail.
“Wow. So this is how the Halfblood Hound does it?”
He flinched. “You know about all that?”
“Survival mode, remember? Know your surroundings like the back of your hand? Yeah, I’m aware.” I grinned. “Graverun King.”
He chuckled. “Well, the Halfblood Hound had very little to do with this.”
“It’s not just your violent side, though, right? Isn’t it you being raw and unleashing like you need to?”
“You don’t need to worry about that, you know? I mean, me doing that with you. Okay? That’s not how I’d let it go down.”
Ah, so that was what this was all about tonight—this space he’d created here, his softer more toned down look, him swallowing his rage down with Sylas so quickly.
I walked to the blanket and sat down, tucking my legs under me to the side.
As he slowly approached, seemingly hesitant and on guard—with himself—as I’d just realized through adding everything up, I looked up and told him, “You think I’m fragile, that your primal side will have me running for the hills, especially if you brought it physically.
You failed to notice my reaction in that alcove when you lost control for a moment and slammed your fist down by my head. ”
He arched an eyebrow.
“It was hot as all hell,” I told him.
“I don’t think you’re fragile, but I did think that kind of sexual aggression wouldn’t sit well with you, yeah.”
“It’s not the sexual aspect that causes issues for me. Not literally that part on its own.”
Curiosity sparked in his eyes and he sat down on the blanket opposite me, settling in. “What is it then?”