Washing away her past.
She hadn’t looked back, and for several years she had travelled on her own, learning and exploring. London called, a city of glittering skyscrapers and old historic buildings blended as if they were one. A city of possibilities and dreams, the place where she now called home.
She hadn’t known her magic was banned under The Magicka law, had learned quickly to hide what she was. It was a chance passing that Frederick had sensed her, had known she practiced black magic and given her a choice.
Death or him.
She could feel Xander watching her, his gaze a brand that seemed to scare away the cold, and make the hostile stares of the adult Seers harsher in comparison. He had said nothing as he settled himself beside her, the wind ruffling his pale hair. She turned her head, his stubble dark, almost as dark as his brows. The contrast of his pale hair would have looked strange on anyone else, but on him it was striking.
“You ready to get out of here?” she asked.
“They’re whispering again,” he said with a scowl, his lashes low to protect his eyes. “I clearly didn’t scare them enough. Maybe I should have eaten one as a warning.”
She had heard the Seers, their venomous words scrambled in the early morning wind.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m a dark witch.”
He looked at her then, his scowl deepening.
“I’m used to being a pariah.” When his face didn’t budge she smiled. “People unaffected by insults make their enemies absolutely powerless.”
“You say that like you have many enemies,” he said, lip twitching.
Kyra shrugged, studying his strong jaw and the tattoos that wrapped around his neck. He hadn’t stayed with her, and she hadn’t decided whether that was a good thing or not. She had woken up beside the key to the manacle, and surrounded by candles. They had been placed strategically in the corners, so there was nowhere that shadows could settle, nowhere for anybody to hide. It was the nicest thing anybody had ever done for her, and as soon as she had realised she had struggled to swallow, her chest heavy.
“I’ve heard from my brothers, no one has been near your place, or your friend’s.”
Reality struck, and she tightened her grip on her legs, turning back to the field. “It’s not my place anymore.” She could never risk going back.
A finger brushed against her cheek. “He won’t touch you.”
“He will never let me go.” Not when she knew so much.
Xander was a solid presence beside her, his eyes a brand as she sighed into the wind. “It’s funny,” she smiled. “I have dreamed of being free, but I didn’t think I would feel so lost once I was.” Kyra climbed carefully to her feet, the children on the field shouting and giggling as some adults joined in with their fun.
Silence stretched between them, her mind reminding her of his lips so deliciously close to hers that she could almost taste him.
‘If I stay I’m going to fuck you up against that wall.’
She hated it as her cheeks glowed, that heat shivered down her spine and that her breasts became heavy, sensitive against the fabric of her bra. She imagined him doing exactly that, taking her against a wall, his body moving over here, inside her.
A warmth burned in his eyes, his smile purely male, as if he knew exactly the angle of her thoughts. Her mouth opened, her tongue darting out nervously as he slowly bent down, closing the gap between them until she felt his breath against her.
A scream, followed by a shout of warning.
Xander shoved, the push forcing her back just as a ball of arcane shot between the gap where they just stood. Kyra caught herself before she fell, blinking as she turned back to the field where a man stood with his wand pointed. He wore a long purple cloak, the lapels green with a metal pin engraved with three stars. An enforcer.
How did they find me?
“Get everyone back,” she whispered to Xander.
The children shrieked, running to the adults who were equally crying. Luckily the man ignored them, striding across the snow towards them.
“Get behind me,” Xander growled, squaring his shoulders. He adjusted his hips, his stance powerful enough she imaged him with a large blade.
“No, go help the community!” Their worst nightmare was a witch, and because of her there was one attacking.
The wand lifted, the end glowing so brightly she had to look away. Nothing happened, there was no strike from the front, instead she felt it from her back, arcane tearing through her aura until she wrenched herself away. It had feasted across her in little bites, a warning rather than a deadly hit.
