72. Loveleena
LOVELEENA
Loveleena was late, as usual. She and Emerson had gotten into a debate about Jarrian politics at dinner and she lost track of time. Approaching the Battlegrounds, her heart ached at the memory of Park, lying dead in the dirt.
She was relieved to find out they weren’t staying there, continuing instead to the abandoned house where she had been days before with Zeina, Ahmina, Serena, Lennox, and Ren. Where she found out she was a triplet.
She had a family—a family of Jarrian nobles.
She was an Alva, not a Veloria. But ever since she found out the truth, she questioned everything she knew about the family she grew up with.
Her unique appearance went unquestioned—while she had green eyes, her parents and siblings had hazel, while her hair was thick and curly, her family’s stick straight.
But that wasn’t enough for her to question her entire lineage.
Everyone assumed that she had inherited some great grandparent’s genetics.
Her parents knew, of course, since they were the ones who took her in.
But what about her siblings? Did Lana know?
Or was her older sister just as much in the dark as she was?
Questions swirled in her mind, and she spent the entire journey through the forest fighting the knot in her stomach that had been there since she faced the Tigress. It only tightened with every step, as if Park’s lifeless body would reappear around the next bend.
Her bitterness toward the Academy and its treatment of Park’s disappearance had softened when she learned of her sisters—but it didn’t vanish.
Rather, it morphed into a chaotic inner conflict—a deep longing for Park and hunger for revenge paired with excitement to learn more about her sisters and her magic.
If Park were here, he would understand. He always gave the best advice without judgement. Although he was youthful in spirit, he often surprised people with the wisdom of an elderly man.
Dry season had started, and the abandoned house was stifling. She opened the windows to let in some air while Ren lit candles to illuminate the space.
Now that the rain had eased, only a few scorching days had been enough to restore Ren’s golden complexion.
Its dewy surface glowed in the dim light, showing off his tattooed arms, and she couldn’t help but take him in.
As much as he pissed her off, she couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man. It’s too bad his personality was shit.
“How are we going to train in here?” she asked, looking around. She had only ever seen the outside. Somehow, the house was even smaller than it appeared; there wasn’t enough room to spar without breaking something. Not that it really mattered since everything was already falling apart.
Her question clung to the air as Ren’s frame shifted—back hunched, his plum eyes turned golden and his skin sprouted midnight black fur.
In front of her stood a living, breathing, vicious-looking Soul Snatcher.
She sucked in a breath and stepped backwards, almost falling in the process. Fight. Ren’s voice was inside her head, but she was too shocked to react.
Try and control it, he said again, just as something in her shifted.
Rising up to protect her, magic surged through her veins, tense under her skin.
A candle beside the Soul Snatcher, beside Ren, knocked over, setting the brittle wood aflame.
The creature jumped away to avoid the fire but he wasn’t quick enough.
All it took was a small ember landing in his fur for him to catch fire too.
Then, the magic dropped, the energy thumping heavily back into place, and she gasped for air, kneeling over to steady herself.
The room had returned to normal, as if the candle had never fallen and caught flame. Ren was also back to his human form in an instant, an intrigued look on his face.
“Not bad.”
“What. Was. That.” Loveleena spat back, “What did you just do!?”
Ren’s eyes flared. “What? You thought you were the only one with magic?”
She pushed his chest, frustrated. Of course Ren had magic. He was there in Charming along with the rest of them. She had been so distracted by her own magic and meeting her sisters she hadn’t even put two and two together.
“What are you?”
“Oh, I am many things.” He smiled, probably the most genuine smile she had seen from him.
“Your magic is illusion,” she said, connecting the dots.
“Shapeshifting.”
She tried to wrap her mind around it.
“You know, I wondered how you stole my dagger so easily that first night. I suspected your magical ability was illusion after the shadow sessions but I had to be sure. This”—he gestured around the room—“confirmed it.”
“You’re not supposed to know,” she spat. “Don’t let anyone know exactly how your magic manifests, right?”
“I don’t follow rules, Alva. You should know that by now.”
“Wow, you’re such a leader.”
“Everything you’ve learned this year is the foundation for your magic,” he explained, ignoring her sarcastic jab. “And now that we know you’re an illusionist, we can work properly with your magic type.”
He wanted her magic for something, she realized. That’s why he finally agreed to tell her what he knew about Park. But for what?
“I didn’t know where you and Zeina were.
Only a select few knew where you were placed.
I was made aware of who Ahmina was once we knew Ash had figured out her identity and sent Barrow to do his dirty work.
If I’m being honest, I was intrigued by your connection to Park.
So, I took a chance on you. Don’t waste the opportunity.
It’s a shame you haven’t cultivated your magic, you know, given it awakened at a young age. ”
Loveleena scoffed. “I had it completely under control until I came here.”
His eyes bore into her, studying her expression, and it made her feel exposed. “You’re a lot like Park, you know.”
The Tigress. The Bloodring. Park. It had left a gaping wound in her heart—one she wasn’t ready to face. “Don’t bring up his name again unless you’re going to tell me what happened to him.”
“Or what?”
“Or I will cut your stupid tongue out.”
Ren smiled, sending a chill down her spine. “That rage you feel? That’s good. Use that to channel your magic.” Ren stretched his neck and each of his arms in preparation. She eyed every single one of his movements, annoyed at how hot he looked. “I want you to use your magic to fight me.”
“I’d be delighted,” she said wryly. Simmering, she rooted herself in a fighting stance. If he wanted a fight, she was going to give him one.
“And one more thing.” Ren stepped toward her. “Channel your magic during combat.”
“Easy,” she said, even though she didn’t feel it.
“Ready?”
“Since when do you ask?” She lunged at him before he could do the same, bringing her dagger to his shoulder.
Ren dodged her easily, grabbing the wrist that held her dagger and twisting so that she was forced to turn with it.
He held her back to his chest, his arm bracing her over her collarbone.
She was trapped, her own dagger used against her.
Her magic allied with her, sensing her danger. Buzzing under her skin. Ready.
Ren’s raspy voice was in her ear, sending a jolt of adrenaline down her core. “What’s your next move, Alva?”
Loveleena tried to focus. She wanted to fight.
But it wasn’t just magic stirring inside her.
Ren’s strong body was against her back, bracing her, his arm flexed, creating small ripples in his tattoos, and the sight sent an unwelcome flicker of heat through her.
Desire came involuntarily. She shoved it away, but it resisted, starting in her abdomen and crawling like lava through each of her limbs.
Lust and her magic intertwined, intensifying.
And suddenly, all she could think about was how it would feel if Ren lowered his forearm, down over her breasts, her ribcage, her lower belly, her pelvis, lower, lower, lower. Her breathing picked up.
“See what happens when you can’t control it?” Ren’s rasped voice was in her ear.
Annoyed, she pushed at his grip.
“Your magic isn’t creating anything that isn’t already there.”
“How would you know. I’m an illusionist, after all.” She gritted her teeth as she said it, pushing all her strength into holding his dagger off.
“Externally yes. But you can’t create illusions within yourself.”
What was usually a casual thought about Ren’s general attractiveness—and she had many “casual” thoughts—was now an electric desire. She cursed herself, reasoning that she had gone too long without sex.
With considerable effort, she twisted around to face him. His hand was still around her wrist, but he wasn’t holding it tightly. She dragged the tip of her dagger down the center of his chest, grazing the fabric of his shirt gently, until it stalled at the top of his belt.
She pulled at her magic, using everything she had to channel it at Ren. No, not just at him, into him. She envisioned her lust spreading from her body, through the tip of her dagger, into Ren’s muscles, through every cell in his body.
“Interesting choice,” Ren said, releasing her. For a brief moment, they stared at each other, panting from exertion and lust. Its beginning and end were unknown to her; all she knew was that it consumed both of them now, simmering just beneath the surface.
She hated that she craved him.
And worse, she hated that she could see it reflected back in his eyes too.
He stepped toward her, eyes locked on hers. His hand found her hair, and he ran his fingers through the thick black strands just above her ear.
She leaned into his touch as a moan escaped her throat, prompting a deep groan that rumbled in his chest, unlocking something in her that begged for release.
Suddenly, she felt desperate for him. Her lips parted for him, and a surge of heat ran through her as he kissed her hungrily.
She pressed her body against him, and he stepped backward in response, lazily falling into a chair behind him.
Straddling him, she ran her lips up his neck, leaving a trail of hungry kisses.
His hands were on her hips, then gripping her ass, and she pressed against him slowly, rhythmically, hard between her legs.
Consumed by desire, she wasn’t sure what was magic and what was real. Whatever it was, she felt drunk on it.
“We can stop now,” Ren panted in her ear.
“I don’t want to,” she whispered back.
“You don’t know what you want,” Ren said, pushing her back off him gently, but firmly. “Give it a minute. You don’t have control of your magic yet. It makes everything… more intense.”
They studied each other without looking away.
She still felt it. The desire, the lust, the tension.
Wasn’t she supposed to be angry with him?
Somehow, the feeling seemed far away, disguised by a deeper need.
In that moment, she didn’t care. Everything that she had been holding inside—grief, magic, anger—needed a release.
She stood up, putting space between them so she could think.
Sex didn’t embarrass her. Declaring her attraction toward someone didn’t make her feel vulnerable or weak. If anything, it empowered her.
But sex with Ren?
Did she really want to get tangled up with him given everything between them? Given how often she wanted to push him off the Great Wall?
“Is that really all from my wild uncontrolled magic?” she teased, emphasizing the words before looking down at his bulge, which was still obvious through his pants.
How much of this was magic, and how much was genuine attraction?
Ren looked down at himself and back up at her, before he draped one arm over the back of the chair, having some sort of internal debate with himself. “Come here and find out.”
At some point she had ripped off his shirt. Her eyes dragged over his tousled hair. His eyes. His defined abs. And the two lines that made a v-shape into his pants…
It was just sex, she told herself.
Put everything else aside.
Just sex.
Eyes locked on his, she lowered herself back on his lap and cupped his jaw. “Not just magic then.” She needed to know it was real. She needed to know he felt what she felt. That he wanted her. As much as the idea of seducing Ren with her magic appealed to her, she would never take away his choice.
Ren’s eyes searched hers. “No. Not just magic.” Then he brought her mouth to his.
Their kiss was deep, and she sunk into it, moaning into his mouth.
“No magic?” his voice was low.
“No magic.” They were in agreement then.
He kissed her again, and this time his hand was in the back of her hair, fist bunched at the root, tugging gently.
The other was on her ass, pulling her against him before he mumbled something barely intelligible against her mouth.
“This isn’t going to get you out of training. We will resume after.”
“Shhhh.” Her fingers pressed to his lips. “Before we change our minds.”