A Hellish Year One: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Bully Romance (Academy of The Devil Book 1)
Page 24
“A forest!” Baltasar exclaimed even if we had all already noticed it. “Come on. Maybe we’ll find clues on our actual location there.”
My hopes of that happening weren’t very high, but at this point, I didn’t even care. It was the first time we’d seen anything other than the fucking flowers since we’d woken up on Chronikos. I supposed the woods weren’t a huge change, but still, their appearance provided us with some variety, and we all embraced it wholeheartedly.
It didn’t take us long to reach the mysterious forest that captivated us so much simply because it existed. From up close, it looked even more beautiful, the tree trunks glowing with a dim light that reminded me of soul essence. Magic buzzed through the air, and the ground beneath our feet vibrated with an alien, unfamiliar energy. I shared a look with Cezar and Baltasar, and the uncertainty I could see on their faces signaled the fact that they’d sensed it too.
It made no difference. “Looks like our luck is improving. If nothing else, this place certainly won’t be boring.”
My words cheered up my fellow vampires and we entered the forest, making our way through the thick undergrowth. We couldn’t find any real path, and I was tempted to summon my magic and create one. I held back since I didn’t think leaving a trail of withered grass and dead trees would be a good idea. Instead, we ducked wherever we could and pushed the more insistent branches aside, ignoring the way the stubborn plants occasionally struck our faces.
Of common accord, we stayed silent. This forest held something so unique that it would have been a blasphemy to have a regular conversation while exploring its mysteries. My abilities resonated against the secrets hidden behind every leaf and every flower. It made no sense, since I had long ago become a creature aligned with death, and everything here was so alive.
Had we found the source of our anomaly without meaning too? No, that wasn’t possible. The Grand Lich had distinctly said that the surge of necromantic magic he had sensed came from The Realm of Eternal Ice. Even if he had been mistaken—which was about as likely as Baltasar suddenly deciding to burst into song and happily skip through the field of flowers we’d just left—this place held even less necromantic magic than Ton Angélon.
A strange force tugged at my center, guiding my footsteps toward the answer to my question. I walked faster, and my friends followed. With every second that passed, the pull became more insistent, to the point that we were forced to start running without even knowing why.
Our momentum and speed were so great that when we reached our destination, the sheer shock at the sight that greeted our eyes made us trip over our own feet. To be more specific, I froze in my tracks, too awed by what we’d stumbled into to move a single muscle. My friends ran into my back, and we all ended up falling to the ground in an undignified pile of limbs.
Normally, I would have felt embarrassed about the whole episode, but I didn’t think we could be blamed for our reaction considering its cause. The source of the magic turned out to be a beautiful woman who was leisurely swimming in the crystalline waters of a glowing lake—or better said, floating on them. The luminescent fluid lapped gently at her nude body, and her wet brown hair curled around her bare breasts in a way that reminded me of a lover’s caress, almost as if trying to protect her modesty. It didn’t work, and the sight of her generous curves awoke the predator hiding inside me. Her rosy, flawless skin made my fangs ache with the desire to feed on her blood and give her more pleasure than she had ever experienced.
Her eyes were closed, and on some level, I realized that we shouldn’t have taken advantage of that to spy on a private moment. We should have looked away, given her space or alerted her to our presence. But something about her rendered me mute, unable to do anything except stare.
I had seen plenty of mortals before. Many humans lived in The Immortuos Voievodat, of their own free will, as blood donors, some in better conditions than others. None had made me react like this, so quickly. Most of the time, I deemed them as boring and bland as the vampires who bedded them. Three-quarters of the people I knew felt the same. It wasn’t even the mortals’ fault per se. It was just so difficult to find anything exciting and original during an eternal existence.
Because of that, it wasn’t exactly easy for an undead being to become aroused. Contrary to popular belief, it had nothing to do with any biological impediment. Most vampires did need to ingest blood before they could become erect, but that was just because nothing else could get them interested. Despite the fact that I was technically still on the living side of the undead spectrum, I’d encountered similar issues. I had no such problems now. For the first time in ages, I felt alive and alight with a fire that burned me brighter than the sun ever could.
Judging by the undignified noises Baltasar and Cezar let out, they weren’t doing so well either. Had I not been so enraptured by the mysterious woman, I would’ve been interested in seeing their faces. I might not be as prone to fighting as my friends, but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy getting a rise out of a fellow vampire. The goddess in the water took precedence.
I hadn’t felt so out of control in over a century. My magic coiled inside me in agitated wisps, and the grass beneath us withered as I struggled to get it under control. I didn’t have much luck, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing since my complete failure as a sorcerer seemed to alert the lovely woman to our presence. All of a sudden, she opened her eyes, and as her brown gaze met my own, my magic stilled, tamed by the simple look she had thrown my way.
No words could have truly described the emotion that blazed in my chest at that moment. It was more than just being alive. I didn’t remember ever experiencing such a phenomenon before I’d become part undead. It was a sensation of utter rightness, akin to the satisfaction I felt every time I successfully cast a spell but multiplied a million times over. I could’ve stayed just like that, looking at her, for the rest of eternity, and I’d have been completely happy.
Sadly, my life had always had a way of sabotaging everything I actually wanted to do. As such, it came as no surprise that the goddess tore her eyes away from mine. “Cloud!” she called out. “Stop!”
At first, I didn’t understand what she was talking about and why she was engaging the clouds in conversation. It certainly did not help that her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her and would’ve distracted us even if its owner hadn’t been in front of us, completely naked. However, we hadn’t lost all sense, and a few seconds later, we took in the alarm in her tone. The spell she had effortlessly weaved around us shattered. It was at that point that we realized we were surrounded by a herd of unicorns, all of which were pointing their exceedingly sharp horns at us in obvious anger.
About the Author
Eva Brandt is a romance aficionado who likes to spice up her stories with an extra bit of something special. Dragons? Perfect. Vampires? You got it. Any other type of mythological creature you might not have heard of? Absolutely. Sexy, snarky heroines and heroes with a penchant for falling head over heels in love with them? Yes and double yes.
She also believes in a very simple motto. Be passionate about passion. Embrace temptation. Life is too short to deny yourselves the most beautiful things about it.
When she’s not weaving her latest sexy tale, she enjoys relaxing in bed with a nice mug of tea and her ebook reader. Because nothing is better than writing a book, excepting reading one.
Visit Eva at her website or Facebook page, join her Facebook Den of Temptation and sign up for her newsletter.
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