Contents (25)
Thank you for reading!
Credits
Proofreading: Pikko’s House (www.pikkoshouse.com)
Cover: Ravven (www.ravven.com)
Table of Contents
Title Page
About the Book
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Titles by Jeffe Kennedy
About Jeffe Kennedy
~ 1 ~
“Are you sure we can’t stay in the arcanium forever?” Lying on her back on the tiled floor, Nic gazed up at the curved struts of the dome still flickering with silver moon magic, the circular lens of the topmost window illuminated with a softer glow. Beyond the thick glass, the shifting water of the lake rippled with deep blues.
“You were the one who painted dire fate of starvation and desiccated bones if we locked ourselves in here and never emerged,” Gabriel observed lazily, stroking a hand down her naked flank and snuggling her more tightly against his side.
Explosive sex following taking her alternate form for the first time—a large silver bird that might be a phoenix, which was a strange development—had left her mind considerably muddled. “Maybe we’re just not thinking creatively enough. You’re a wizard. Can’t you magic us food?”
He chuckled and, to her great dismay, shifted to a sitting position, bringing her upright with him. “All the creative thinking in the world won’t save our people if we abandon them to hide away in here,” he pointed out.
“There is that,” she replied glumly, unwillingly contemplating the host of problems that awaited them outside this idyllic bubble.
“And,” he said, patting her back encouragingly, “recall that you wanted to practice taking your alternate form while clothed before we confront the Convocation proctor, which means you need to get dressed.”
“Since when are you the practical one in this relationship?” she grumbled, pushing to her feet and stretching.
“I’ve been learning from the best.” He muttered a curse, and she turned to see him wrestling with his leather pants, which had tangled around his knee-high boots when she’d yanked them down. Above them, he was naked, silvery hairs bright against his darker skin, his moon-pale hair wildly tousled from her fervid hands. Though she’d thought herself sated a moment ago, the sight of him so thoroughly ravaged had her blood heating. Gabriel caught her looking and cocked a brow, lifting his hips to yank his pants up the rest of the way, then firmly laced them. “No,” he told her, “or we will emerge to a barren landscape scoured clean by your Convocation and all our people taken prisoner.”
“It’s not my Convocation,” she reminded him, tempted to try his resolve anyway. Not that she was dreading facing exactly the scenario he predicted or anything.
“Even so, we know what they’re capable of, and I’m not excited to stage a rescue at this point in time.”