I couldn’t get to her. I was miles away. Except I felt her in ways I shouldn’t be able to. The Alun’s old magic crawled through me, amplifying everything even further. She might as well have been beside me. Pain and pleasure ripped down my spine until a sharp pop snapped through me.
I had to try something.
‘Ez, what’s wrong?’Xan asked.
I cupped my lover’s cheek and kissed his lips. “Don’t move.” Locking onto the sliver of her shadow, I dropped into my lover’s dark copy and prayed.
Chapter 23
Quinn
Forsixdays,Iresisted Westwater's generosity. Refusing gifts was easy until I was locked inside Ravana’s room, where suggestion after suggestion wore me down. Slowly, I gave in… and I couldn’t even pretend to regret it.
I lay on the massage bed, face in the cradle, arms draped over soft pads while lilting harp music floated from the corner. The masseur’s velvet-strong hands slid warm Majekah into my back, heat spreading through every taut muscle until he found a knot. His fingers pressed deeper, the pleasure sharp enough to sting before it broke with a shuddering release. A groan slipped out, low, needy, and almost indecent.
It wasn’t the kind of release my magic craved, but the way his skilled hands worked me over came close, teasing the restless boil of power under my skin.
I’d never built magic this fast. In my time, nothing flowed. Everything came from me. Now, thanks to one shiny belly-button ring, energy swarmed me like Wi-Fi. And losing it? Way worse than never having it at all.
It wasn’t just my magic I missed.
My guys.
I didn’t know what I wanted when I took Ravana’s hand. I do now.
Yes, they tied me in knots. Yes, it wasn’t perfect. But, if a fairy tale romance dropped into my lap right now, would I get lost in it? Or be so suspicious that I couldn’t enjoy it?
Sometimes I wished I didn’t know myself so well.
“You’re wound tighter than a bowstring,” the masseur rumbled. “I’ll get you relaxed, and then you tell me what you want. I’m to be at your disposal for anything.” He dragged his hand down my spine. “I’m very good at what I do, Quinn. I can give you release without touch. That’s my Majekah.”
My face heated, not that he could see it. Ravana said he would offer, but I didn’t even understand the logistics of how that would work and was too embarrassed to ask. The masseur found a knot on my left shoulder and pressed. I hissed with momentary pain before the muscle slowly released, and bliss took its place.
With trials looming in under three days, maybe a clinical orgasm wasn’t the worst idea.
The masseur’s touch vanished from my back, replaced by a strangled, desperate attempt at words.
Steel whispered free. The harp cut off mid-note.
My stomach dropped. I opened my eyes to the white carpet beneath the table, heat cones flickering like nervous candles inhoney-colored magic. A shadow far too big for one person spilled to my right.
I swallowed hard, every instinct screaming to move—and every instinct knowing better. I was naked, with only a blanket thrown over my backside, pulled down so low it exposed the tops of my butt cheeks. My heart raced.
“Are you hurt?” Ezra’s voice could cut glass.
I turned my head. Ezra stood there, shortsword to my masseur’s throat, hand clamped over his mouth. It took me a moment to process. “Ezra?”
The shadow mage’s dark-purple gaze smoldered. “Do you not remember me?”
“No, I do.” I tried to push up, and the little sheet slipped. I stayed down. “No. I definitely do. I didn’t expect to see you here, now.” My neck ached. I put my head back in the hole. “This man was giving me a massage. He’s a professional. This is his studio. I’m on a massage table. Think, Ezra.”
The harp music plinked.
“If I lift my hand, you stay silent,” Ezra stated.
The masseur must have nodded.
“I was only doing my job,” the masseur said quickly, without any of the deep ease he’d spoken to me earlier. “Muscles are my Majekah. Does this look like a torture chamber?”
